by  the  author  of 

16  Be 


THOUGH 


1.1 


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Irs. William  L.    Cook 


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MANNERS   MAKYTH  MAN" 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


MANNERS    MAKYTH    MAN. 
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THE   FIVE    TALENTS    OF    WOMAN. 

A  Book  for  Girls  and  Women,     lamo,  $1.25. 

HOW  TO  BE  HAPPY  THOUGH  MARRIED. 
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"MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN" 


ttye  gtuttjmr  of 
"HOW  TO  BE  HAPPY  THOUGH  MARRIED" 


' 


Good  manners  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  beautiful  behaviour." 


*  Come  on,  Sir  ;  I  shall  put  you  to  the  height  of  your  br-eding." 

Air*  Well  that  end*  Well. 

"  Conduct  is  three-fourths  of  life." 

Matthew  Arnold. 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

MDCCCXC 


>.  /  G+rt 


BEING  "  HAPPY  THOUGH    MARRIED  "  TEN  YEARS,   SIX 

MONTHS,    THREE  WEEKS,   AND   FOUR  DAYS, 

I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK  TO 

MY    WIFE. 


586419 


PREFACE. 


|F  gratitude  be  "  a  lively  sense  of  benefits  to 
come,"  I  am  showing  my  gratitude  to  the  public 
for  their  very  kind  reception  of  "  How  to  be 
Happy  though  Married "  by  now  presenting 
to  them  another  little  book  with  my  best 
manners." 

It  is  not  a  book  of  etiquette,  for  I  am  by  no  means  a 
master  of  ceremonies ;  nor  does  the  motto  of  Winchester 
College,  "Manners  makyth  man,"  refer  to  those  social  rules 
and  forms  which  are  often  only  substitutes  for  good  manners, 
but  rather  to  manners  in  the  old  sense  of  the  word  which 
we  see  in  the  text,  "Evil  communications  corrupt  good 
manners." 

We  are  several  thousand  years  too  late  to  say  anything  new 


8 


PREFACE. 


about  morality,  but  if  there  be  nothing  new  in  this  book,  there 
may  be  some  things  true  of  which  we  need  to  be  frequently 
reminded,  and  to  have  put  before  us  in  different  lights. 

Five  of  these  papers  appeared  in  a  somewhat  different  form 
in  Chambers^  Journal,  two  in  The  Quiver,  two  in  The  Queen, 
two  in  The  family  Circle,  and  one  in  Household  Words. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


GOOD  MANNERS  ... 


CHAPTER  II. 
"GOD  ALMIGHTY'S  GENTLEMEN" 


PAGE 

13 


24 


CHAPTER  III. 

WANTED— A   MAN!          34 


CHAPTER  IV. 
WOMAN'S  WORK— TO  PLEASE 


•••         ••• 


42 


CHAPTER  V. 

MATRIMONIAL    MANNERS  


io  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGE 

A   HUSBAND-AND-WIFE  MUTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  SOCIETY  6 1 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY  !" 71 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  A  HUSBAND          8 1 

CHAPTER  IX. 

FAMILY  GOVERNMENT 9! 

CHAPTER  X. 
VAINGLORIOUS  HOUSEKEEPING      IO2 

CHAPTER  XI. 

KEEPING  UP  APPEARANCES       IIO 

CHAPTER  XII. 

ABOUT  READING         Il8 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

CONVERSATION ...        129 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

OUR  SHAKSPERIAN  READINGS        138 


CONTENTS.  II 


CHAPTER  XV. 

PAGE 

TIPPLING 143 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
"MONEY  is  CHARACTER" ...  155 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE  1 66 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ARE  OUR  MANNERS  AND 'MORALS   PERFECT? I?6 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  ONLY  TEMPER  » 1 86 

CHAPTER  XX. 

"ONLY  TRIFLES" 194 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

MISAPPLIED  VIRTUES 203 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

VITAL  FORCE 2IO 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SUCCESS  IN  LIFE  219 


12  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

PAGE 

IN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH " ...        228 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MORE  SUNSHINE         2$8 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

DISTINGUISHED   SERVICE  IN  PASSION  248 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

WHAT  IS  RELIGION?  ...  2$6 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
"HOW  DO  YOU  DO?" ~     263 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  FOOLISH 269 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
THE  WISE  MAN'S  CONCLUSION ...       277 


CHAPTER    I. 

GOOD   MANNERS. 

"  Those  inferior  duties  of  life  which  the  French  call  lespetites  morales^ 
or  the  smaller  morals,  are  with  us  distinguished  by  the  name  of  good 
manners. " — Swift. 

"  Manners  are  of  more  importance  than  laws.  According  to  their 
quality,  they  aid  morals,  they  supply  laws,  or  they  totally  destroy 
them."— Burke. 

|OOD  manners  are  nothing  less  than  little 
morals.  They  are  the  shadows  of  virtues,  if 
not  virtues  themselves.  "A  beautiful  be- 
haviour is  better  than  a  beautiful  form;  it 
gives  a  higher  pleasure  than  statues  and  pic- 
tures ;  it  is  the  finest  of  the  fine  arts."  How  well  it  is  then 
that  no  one  class  has  a  monopoly  in  this  "  finest  of  fine  arts  ; " 
that  while  favourable  circumstances  undoubtedly  do  render 
good  manners  more  common  among  persons  moving  in  higher 
rather  than  in  lower  spheres,  there  should  nevertheless  be 
no  positive  hindrance  to  the  poorest  classes  practising  good 


14  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

manners  towards  each  other.  For  what  is  a  good  manner  ? 
It  is  the  art  of  putting  our  associates  at  their  ease.  Who- 
ever makes  the  fewest  persons  uncomfortable  is  the  best- 
mannered  man  in  the  room. 

Vanity,  ill-nature,  want  of  sympathy,  want  of  sense — these 
are  the  chief  sources  from  which  bad  manners  spring.  Nor 
can  we  imagine  an  incident  in  which  a  man  could  be  at  a 
loss  as  to  what  to  say  or  do  in  company,  if  he  were  always 
considerate  for  the  feelings  of  others,  forgot  himself,  and 
did  not  lose  his  head  or  leave  his  common  sense  at  home. 
Such  an  one  may  not  have  studied  etiquette,  he  may  be 
chaotic  rather  than  "  good  form,"  as  the  slang  expression  is ; 
and  yet,  because  his  head  and  heart  are  sound,  he  will  speak 
and  act  as  becomes  a  gentleman.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
very  pedant  in  form  and  bigot  in  ceremonies  may  be  nothing 
better  than  the  "mildest-mannered  man  that  ever  cut  a 
throat."  As  we  can  be  wise  without  learning,  so  it  is  quite 
possible  to  be  well-mannered  with  little  or  no  knowledge  of 
those  rules  and  forms  which  are  at  best  only  a  substitute  for 
common  sense,  and  which  cannot  be  considered  essential  to 
good  manners,  inasmuch  as  they  vary  in  every  country,  and 
even  in  the  same  country  change  about  with  the  weather- 
cock of  fashion.  Vanity  renders  people  too  self-conscious 
to  have  good  manners,  for  if  we  are  always  thinking  of  the 
impression  we  are  making,  we  cannot  give  enough  attention 
to  the  feelings  and  conversation  of  others.  Without  trying 
to  be  natural — an  effort  that  would  make  us  most  artificial — 
we  must  be  natural  by  forgetting  self  in  the  desire  to 
please  others.  Elderly  unmarried  students,  and  those  who 


GOOD  MANNERS.  15 

lead  lonely  lives  generally,  not  unfrequently  acquire  awkward 
manners,  the  result  of  self-conscious  sensitiveness. 

Shyness  was  a  source  of  misery  to  the  late  Archbishop 
Whately.  When  at  Oxford,  his  white  rough  coat  and  white 
hat  obtained  for  him  the  sobriquet  of  "  The  White  Bear ; " 
and  his  manners,  according  to  his  own  account  of  himself, 
corresponded  with  the  appellation.  He  was  directed,  by 
way  of  remedy,  to  copy  the  example  of  the  best-mannered 
men  he  met  in  society;  but  the  attempt  to  do  this  only 
increased  his  shyness.  He  found  that  he  was  all  the  while 
thinking  of  himself  rather  than  of  others  ;  whereas  thinking 
of  others  rather  than  of  one's  self  is  the  essence  of  politeness. 
Finding  that  he  was  making  no  progress,  he  said  to  himself : 
"  I  have  tried  my  very  utmost,  and  find  that  I  must  be  as 
awkward  as  a  bear  all  my  life,  in  spite  of  it.  I  will 
endeavour  to  think  about  it  as  little  as  a  bear,  and  make  up 
my  mind  to  endure  what  can't  be  cured."  In  thus  endeavour- 
ing to  shake  off  all  consciousness  as  to  manner,  he  says : 
"  I  succeeded  beyond  my  expectations ;  for  I  not  only  got 
rid  of  the  personal  suffering  of  shyness,  but  also  of  most  of 
those  faults  of  manner  which  consciousness  produces  j  and 
acquired  at  once  an  easy  and  natural  manner — careless 
indeed  in  the  extreme,  from  its  originating  in  a  stern 
defiance  of  opinion,  which  I  had  convinced  myself  must  be 
ever  against  me ;  rough  and  awkward,  for  smoothness  and 
grace  are  quite  out  of  my  way,  and  of  course  tutorially 
pedantic ;  but  unconscious,  and  therefore  giving  expression 
to  that  good-will  towards  men  which  I  really  feel ;  and  these, 
I  believe,  are  the  main  points." 


16  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

Vanity,  again,  is  the  source  of  that  boasting  self-assertion 
which  is  the  bane  of  manners.  He  is  an  ill-mannered  man 
who  is  always  loud  in  the  praises  of  himself  and  of  his 
children;  who,  boasting  of  his  rank,  of  his  business,  of 
achievements  in  his  calling,  looks  down  upon  lower  orders 
of  people ;  who  cannot  refrain  from  having  his  joke  at  the 
expense  of  another's  character;  whose  smart  thing  must 
come  out  because  he  has  not  the  gentlemanly  feeling  that 
suggests  to  us 

"  Never  to  blend  our  pleasure  or  our  pride 
With  sorrow  to  the  meanest  thing  that  lives." 

The  habit  of  saying  rude  things,  of  running  people  down, 
springs  not  so  much  from  ill-nature  as  from  that  vanity  that 
would  rather  lose  a  friend  than  a  joke.  On  this  point  Dr. 
Johnson  once  remarked  :  "  Sir,  a  man  has  no  more  right  to 
say  an  uncivil  thing  than  to  act  one — no  more  right  to  say 
a  rude  thing  to  another  than  to  knock  him  down."  The 
vain  egotism  that  disregards  others  is  shown  in  various 
impolite  ways ;  as,  for  instance,  by  neglect  of  propriety  in 
dress,  by  the  absence  of  cleanliness,  or  by  indulging  in 
repulsive  habits.  Some  think  themselves  so  well-born,  so 
clever,  or  so  rich,  as  to  be  above  caring  what  others  say  and 
think  of  them.  It  is  said  that  the  ancient  kings  of  Egypt 
used  to  commence  speeches  to  their  subjects  with  the 
formula,  "  By  the  head  of  Pharaoh,  ye  are  all  swine  1 "  We 
need  not  wonder  that  those  who  take  this  swine-theory  view 
of  their  neighbours  should  be  careless  of  setting  their  tastes 
and  feelings  at  defiance.  Contrast  such  puppyism  with  the 


GOOD  MANNERS.  17 

conduct  of  David  Ancillon,  a  famous  Huguenot  preacher, 
one  of  whose  motives  for  studying  his  sermons  with  the 
greatest  care  was,  "  that  it  was  showing  too  little  esteem  for 
the  public  to  take  no  pains  in  preparation,  and  that  a  man 
who  should  appear  on  a  ceremonial  day  in  his  night-cap 
and  dressing-gown  could  not  commit  a  greater  breach  of 
civility." 

"  Spite  and  ill-nature,"  it  has  been  said,  "  are  among  the 
most  expensive  luxuries  of  life ; "  and  this  is  true,  for  none 
of  us  can  afford  to  surround  himself  with  the  host  of  enemies 
we  are  sure  to  make,  if,  when  young,  we  allow  ill-nature 
to  produce  in  us  unmannerly  habits.  Good  manners,  like 
good  words,  cost  nothing,  and  are  worth  everything.  What 
advantage,  for  instance,  did  the  bookseller,  on  whom  Dr. 
Johnson  once  called  to  solicit  employment,  get  from  his 
brutal  reply  :  "  Go  buy  a  porter's  knot  and  carry  trunks  "  ? 
The  surly  natures  of  such  men  prevent  them  from  ever 
entertaining  angels  unawares. 

It  is  want  of  sympathy,  however,  much  more  than  a  bad 
nature  that  produces  the  ill-mannered  hardness  of  character 
so  well  described  by  Sydney  Smith  :  "  Hardness  is  a  want 
of  minute  attention  to  the  feelings  of  others.  It  does  not 
proceed  from  malignity  or  carelessness  of  inflicting  pain,  but 
from  a  want  of  delicate  perception  of  those  little  things  by 
which  pleasure  is  conferred  or  pain  excited.  A  hard  person 
thinks  he  has  done  enough  if  he  does  not  speak  ill  of  your 
relations,  your  children,  or  your  country;  and  then,  with 
the  greatest  good-humour  and  volubility,  and  with  a  total 
inattention  to  your  individual  state  and  position,  gallops 


i  S  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

over  a  thousand  fine  feelings,  and  leaves  in  every  step  the 
mark  of  his  hoofs  upon  your  heart.  Analyze  the  conversa- 
tion of  a  well-bred  man  who  is  clear  of  the  besetting  sin  of 
hardness ;  it  is  a  perpetual  homage  of  polite  good-nature. 
In  the  meantime,  the  gentleman  on  the  other  side  of  you  (a 
highly  moral  and  respectable  man)  has  been  crushing  little 
sensibilities,  and  violating  little  proprieties,  and  overlooking 
little  discriminations ;  and  without  violating  anything  which 
can  be  called  a  rule>  or  committing  what  can  be  denomi- 
nated a/tfz/#,  has  displeased  and  dispirited  you,  from  want- 
ing that  fine  vision  which  sees  little  things,  and  that  delicate 
touch  which  handles  them,  and  that  fine  sympathy  which 
this  superior  moral  organization  always  bestows." 

Of  course  we  must  not  judge  people  too  much  by  external 
manner,  for  many  a  man  has  nothing  of  the  bear  about  him 
but  his  skin.  Nevertheless,  as  we  cannot  expect  people  in 
general  to  take  time  to  see  whether  we  are  what  we  seem  to 
be,  it  is  foolish  to  roll  ourselves  into  a  prickly  ball  on  the 
approach  of  strangers.  If  we  do  so,  we  cannot  wonder  at 
their  exclaiming,  "  A  rough  Christian  !  "  as  the  dog  said  of 
the  hedgehog. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  "  natural-born  fool " — to  use 
an  American  expression — can  ever  hope  to  become  well 
mannered,  for  without  good  sense,  or  rather  tact,  a  man 
must  continually  make  a  fool  of  himself  in  society.  Why 
are  women  as  a  rule  better  mannered  than  men  ?  Because 
their  greater  sympathy  and  power  of  quicker  intuition  give 
to  them  finer  tact.  Nor  is  talent  which  knows  what  to  do 
of  much  use,  if  the  tact  be  wanting  which  should  enable  us 


GOOD  MANNERS.  19 

to  see  how  to  do  it.  He  who  has  talent  without  tact  is  like 
the  millionaire  who  never  has  a  penny  of  ready-money 
about  him.  Dr.  Smiles  illustrates  the  difference  between  a 
man  of  quick  tact  and  of  no  tact  whatever,  by  an  interview 
which  he  says  once  took  place  between  Lord  Palmerston 
and  Mr.  Behnes  the  sculptor.  At  the  last  sitting  which 
Lord  Palmerston  gave  him,  Behnes  opened  the  conversation 
with :  "  Any  news,  my  lord,  from  France  ?  How  do  we 
stand  with  Louis  Napoleon  ? "  The  Foreign  Secretary 
raised  his  eyebrows  for  an  instant,  and  quietly  replied  : 
"  Really,  Mr.  Behnes,  I  don't  know ;  I  have  not  seen  the 
newspapers ! "  Behnes,  with  much  talent,  was  one  of  the 
many  men  who  entirely  miss  their  way  in  life  through  want 
of  tact. 

A  well-mannered  man  is  courteous  to  all  sorts  and  condi- 
tions of  men.  He  is  respectful  to  his  inferiors  as  well  as 
to  his  equals  and  superiors.  Honouring  the  image  of  God 
in  every  man,  his  good  manners  are  not  reserved  for  the 
few  who  can  pay  for  them,  or  who  make  themselves  feared. 
Like  the  gentle  summer  air,  his  civility  plays  round  all  alike. 
"  The  love  and  admiration,"  says  Canon  Kingsley,  "  which 
that  truly  brave  and  loving  man  Sir  Sydney  Smith  won  from 
every  one,  rich  and  poor,  with  whom  he  came  in  contact, 
seems  to  have  arisen  from  the  one  fact,  that  without,  perhaps, 
having  any  such  conscious  intention,  he  treated  rich  and 
poor,  his  own  servants,  and  the  noblemen  his  guests,  alike, 
and  alike  courteously,  considerately,  cheerfully,  affection- 
ately— so  leaving  a  blessing  and  reaping  a  blessing  wherever 
he  went."  Certainly  the  working-classes  of  England,  however 


20  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN.* 

respectful  they  may  be  to  those  whom — often  for  interested 
reasons — they  call  "  their  betters,"  are  far  from  being  suffi- 
ciently polite  to  each  other.  Why  should  not  British 
labourers  when  they  meet  take  off  their  hats  to  each  other, 
and  courteously  ask  after  Mrs.  Hardwork  and  family? 
There  is  not  a  moment  of  their  lives  the  enjoyment  of 
which  might  not  be  enhanced  by  kindliness  of  this  sort — in 
the  workshop,  in  the  street,  or  at  home. 

We  know  that  extremes  meet,  and  there  is  an  over-civility 
that  becomes  less  than  civil,  because  it  forces  people  to  act 
contrary  to  their  inclinations.  Well-mannered  people  con- 
sult the  wishes  of  others  rather  than  their  own.  They  do 
not  proceed  in  a  tyrannical  manner  to  prescribe  what  their 
friends  shall  eat  and  drink,  nor  do  they  put  them  in  the 
awkward  position  of  having  to  answer  a  thousand  apologies 
for  their  entertainment.  When  guests  refuse  an  offered 
civility,  we  ought  not  to  press  it.  When  they  desire  to 
leave  our  house,  it  is  really  bad  manners  to  lock  the  stable- 
door,  hide  their  hats,  and  have  recourse  to  similar  artifices  to 
ptevent  their  doing  so.  As,  however,  this  zeal  of  hospitality 
without  knowledge  is  a  good  fault,  and  one  not  too  common, 
there  is  perhaps  no  need  to  say  more  about  it.  It  leans  to 
virtue's  side. 

We  must  not  confound  etiquette  with  good  manners,  for 
the  arbitrary  rules  of  the  former  are  very  often  absurd,  and 
differ  in  various  ages  and  countries ;  whereas  good  manners, 
founded  as  they  are  on  common-sense,  are  always  and  every- 
where the  same.  It  would  be  invidious  to  illustrate  this 
assertion  from  the  society  of  our  own  country,  so  we  shall 


GOOD  MANNERS.  21 


import  a  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  etiquette  from  Japan.  In 
The  Gentle  Life,  the  following  account  is  given  of  what 
used  to  take  place  at  the  Japanese  court.  "When  one 
courtier  was  insulted  by  another,  he  who  bore  the  insult 
turned  round  to  the  insulter,  and  quietly  uncovering  the 
stomach,  ripped  himself  open.  The  aggressor,  by  an  inex- 
orable law  of  etiquette,  was  bound  to  follow  the  lead,  and 
so  the  two  die.  The  most  heart-rending  look  ever  witnessed 
was  one  given  by  a  Japanese,  who,  having  been  insulted  by 
an  American,  carried  out  the  rule,  expecting  his  opponent 
to  follow  suit.  But  the  Yankee  would  do  nothing  of  the 
sort;  and  the  Japanese  expired  in  agonies — not  from  the 
torture  of  his  wound,  but  from  being  a  sacrifice  to  so  foolish 
and  underbred  a  fellow — whilst  the  American  looked  at  him 
in  a  maze  of  wonder."  If  it  were  not  so  sad,  we  might 
laugh  at  such  accounts  of  self-torture,  as  well  as  at  people 
of  our  own  acquaintance  who,  worshipping  conventionality, 
are  ever  on  the  rack  about  "the  right  thing  to  do,"  about 
"  good  form." 

But  this  sort  of  folly  should  not  blind  us  to  the  value  of 
good  manners  as  distinguished  from  etiquette. 

"  Manners  are  not  idle,  but  the  fruit 
Of  noble  nature  and  of  loyal  mind." 

Were  it  not  for  the  oil  of  civility,  how  could  the  wheels  of 
society  continue  to  work  ?  Money,  talent,  rank — these  are 
keys  that  turn  some  locks ;  but  kindness  or  a  sympathetic 
manner  is  a  master-key  that  can  open  all.  If  "  virtue  itself 
offends  when  coupled  with  a  forbidding  manner,"  how  great 
must  be  the  power  of  winning  manners,  such  as  steer  between 


22  " MANNERS  MA KYTH  MAN" 

bluntness  and  plain-dealing,  between  giving  merited  praise 
and  flattery. 

Men  succeed  in  their  professions  quite  as  much  by  com- 
plaisance and  kindliness  of  manner  as  by  talent.  Demos- 
thenes, in  giving  his  well-known  advice  to  an  orator — that 
eloquence  consisted  in  three  things,  the  first  "  action,"  the 
second  "  action,"  and  the  third  "  action  " — is  supposed  to 
have  intended  manner  only.  A  telling  preacher  in  his 
opening  remarks  gains  the  good-will  of  his  hearers,  and 
makes  them  feel  both  that  he  has  something  to  say  and  that 
he  can  say  it — by  his  manner.  The  successful  medical  man 
on  entering  a  sick-room  inspires  into  his  patients  belief  in 
himself,  and  that  hope  which  is  so  favourable  to  longevity — 
by  his  manner.  Considering  that  jurymen  are  scarcely 
personifications  of  pure  reason  unmixed  with  passion  or 
prejudice,  a  barrister  cannot  afford  to  neglect  manner  if  he 
would  bring  twelve  men  one  after  another  to  his  way  of 
thinking.  Again,  has  the  business  man  any  stock-in-trade 
that  pays  him  better  than  a  good  address  ?  And  as  regards 
the  "survival  of  the  fittest"  in  tournaments  for  a  lady's  hand, 
is  it  not  a  "natural  selection"  when  the  old  motto  "Manners 
makyth  man"  decides  the  contest?  At  least  Wilkes,  the 
best-mannered  but  ugliest  man  of  his  day,  thought  so.  "  I 
am,"  he  said,  "  the  ugliest  man  in  the  three  kingdoms ;  but 
if  you  give  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  start,  I  will  gain  the 
love  of  any  woman  before  the  handsomest." 

If  kindliness  of  disposition  be  the  essence  of  good 
manners,  our  subject  is  seen  at  once  to  shade  off  into  the 
great  one  of  Christianity  itself.  It  is  the  heart  that  makes 


GOOD  MANNERS.  23 

both  the  true  gentleman  and  the  great  theologian.  The 
Apostle  Paul  (see  speech  delivered  on  Mars'  Hill)  always 
endeavoured  to  conciliate  his  audience  when  he  commenced 
addressing  them.  And  his  letters,  as  well  as  those  of  his 
fellow-apostles,  are  full  of  sympathy  and  consideration  for 
every  one's  feelings,  because  he  had  learned  from  Him 
whose  sympathy  extended  to  even  the  greatest  of  sinners. 

Rather  more  than  fifty  years  ago  there  was  a  lawsuit  in 
which  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  was  concerned.  On  this 
occasion,  Rev.  John  Barrett,  senior  fellow,  familiarly  styled 
"  Jacky  Barrett,"  was  lugged  out  of  his  sanctum,  from  which 
he  very  rarely  stirred,  to  give  evidence  against  the  assailant 
of  his  loved  and  cherished  establishment.  Sir  Jonah,  who 
cross-examined  him,  gives  this  account  of  his  defeat  by  the 
little  kiln-dried  sage  : 

"  I  examined  the  most  learned  of  the  whole  University, 
Dr.  Barrett,  a  little  greasy,  shabby,  croaking,  round-faced 
vice  provost  He  knew  nothing  on  earth  save  books  and 
guineas,  never  went  out,  and  held  but  little  intercourse  with 
mankind.  I  worked  at  him  unsuccessfully  more  than  an 
hour;  not  one  decisive  sentence  could  I  get  him  to  pro- 
nounce. At  length  he  grew  quite  tired  of  me,  and  I  thought 
to  conciliate  him  by  telling  him  that  his  father  had  christened 
me.  '  Indeed  ! '  exclaimed  he.  '  Oh,  I  did  not  know  you 
were  a  Christian/  At  this  unexpected  repartee  the  laugh 
was  so  strong  against  me  that  I  found  myself  muzzled." 

To  some  highly  "  respectable  "  and  even  baptized  persons 
one  is  tempted  to  say,  on  hearing  them  make  religious  pro- 
fessions which  they  never  put  into  practice — "  Oh,  I  did  not 
know  you  were  a  Christian." 


CHAPTER  II. 


"GOD  ALMIGHTY'S  GENTLEMEN." 

"  Every  one  may  arrive  at  true  nobility  by  the  ways  of  virtue  and 
goodness." — William  Penn. 

"  Loke  who  that  is  most  vertuous  alway, 
Prive  and  apert,  and  most  entendeth  ay 
To  do  the  gentil  dedes  that  he  can, 
And  take  him  for  the  gretest  gentilman." — Chaucer. 

"  What  can  ennoble  sots,  or  slaves,  or  cowards  ? 
Alas  !  not  all  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards. 
Worth  makes  the  man,  and  want  of  it  the  fellow  ; 
The  rest  is  all  but  leather  or  prunello." — Pope. 

HE  grand  old  name  of  "gentleman"  is  now  so 
"  soiled  with  all  ignoble  use,"  that  one  prefers 
to  call  himself  simply  "man"  rather  than 
"gentleman."  And  yet  were  a  distinction 
drawn  on  proper  grounds  between  genttemen 
and  roughs,  we  should  all  desire  to  belong  to  the  former 
class.  To  ask  what  is  the  difference  between  God  Al- 


"  GOD  ALMIGHTY  S  GENTLEMEN?  25 

mighty's  gentlemen  and  society's  gentlemen  is  very  much 
the  same  as  asking  what  is  the  difference  between  a  real 
and  a  nominal  Christian. 

We  read  that  the  fact  of  our  Lord's  humble  birth  and 
trade  offended — that  is,  was  a  difficulty  to — those  who 
listened  to  His  words  of  wisdom,  and  saw  the  mighty  works 
which  were  wrought  by  His  hands.  "  From  whence,"  they 
asked,  "  hath  this  Man  these  things  ?  and  what  wisdom  is 
this  which  is  given  unto  Him,  that  even  such  mighty  works 
are  wrought  by  His  hands  ?  Is  not  this  the  Carpenter,  the 
Son  of  Mary,  the  brother  of  James,  and  Joses,  and  of  Juda, 
and  Simon  ?  and  are  not  His  sisters  here  with  us  ?  And 
they  were  offended  at  Him.'*  But,  instead  of  being 
orfended,  all  who  love  and  sympathize  with  their  fellow- 
creatures  ought  to  be  truly  thankful  that  our  Saviour  was 
only  "  the  Carpenter,"  for  Christ's  early  trade  has  consoled, 
and  for  ever  shall  console,  the  estate  of  poverty.  It  has 
caused  work,  even  the  humblest,  to  be  looked  upon  by  all 
earnest,  good  men  not  as  a  disgrace,  but  as  a  sacred  duty ; 
and,  more  than  this,  it  has  elevated  our  entire  conception 
of  manhood  by  itself,  without  rank  and  wealth,  as  something 
grand  and  noble  in  the  sight  of  God.  All  who  love  their 
Saviour,  and  remember  that  He  had  no  higher  social  posi- 
tion than  that  of  a  carpenter,  must  say  with  our  Poel 
Laureate — 

"  Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 
"Tis  only  noble  to  be  good  ; 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood." 


26  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

Christ  chose  poverty — a  condition  in  which  the  vast  majority 
of  His  brothers  and  sisters  live — in  order  that  the  rich 
should  no  longer  despise  the  poor,  and  that  a  man's  worth 
should  be  estimated  by  his  character,  and  not  by  the  amount 
of  money  he  may  possess. 

There  has  ever  been  a  tendency  to  regard  idleness  as  the 
stamp  of  aristocracy.  The  old  Greeks  and  Romans  used  to 
delegate  all  manual  labour  to  slaves.  The  Jews,  too,  though 
each  boy  was  taught  a  trade,  despised  labour,  if  the  labourer 
were  ignorant  and  unlearned;  and,  even  now,  to  be  a 
"  walking  gentleman,"  as  it  is  called,  is  too  often  considered 
as  a  desirable  condition  of  life.  But  our  Lord  wished  to 
show  that  labour  is  a  pure  and  noble  thing,  saving  the  body 
from  effeminate  languor  and  the  soul  from  unhealthy, 
polluting  thoughts ;  therefore  He  worked  as  a  carpenter, 
and,  by  doing  so,  has  sanctioned  and  ennobled  all  honest 
work.  A  true  Christian  cannot  now  say,  "I  am  above 
doing  any  work,"  even  the  humblest,  for  his  Saviour  was 
not.  He  who  works  with  his  head  cannot  now  despise  the 
manual  labourer.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  him  who 
consumes  much  and  produces  little — who  does  not  help  the 
world  in  any  way,  but  is  only  a  burden  to  it?  Shall  we 
now  say,  the  idler  a  man  is,  the  greater  gentleman  he  is  ? 
or  shall  not  Christians  say,  "  Our  Master  worked  with  His 
hands,  and  therefore  idlers  are  no  followers  of  Him  "  ? 

The  world  hardly  attaches  significance  to  any  life  except 
those  of  its  heroes  and  benefactors,  its  mighty  intellects,  its 
conquerors,  or  its  millionaires.  But  these  must  always  be 
the  few.  Most  of  us  lead  an  insignificant,  plodding,  un- 


"GOD  ALMIGHTY S  GENTLEMEN*  27 

romantic  life,  with  very  little  in  it  to  excite,  and  much 
poverty  and  humiliation  to  embitter  it.  What  a  blessed 
fact,  then,  is  it  for  us  that  our  Saviour  did  not  come  on 
earth  as  a  rich,  honoured  man,  but  as  a  poor  and  despised 
one!  The  poor  may  now  hear  Him  gladly,  as  they  did 
when  He  taught  them  in  person,  for  He  took  upon  Him 
the  condition  of  the  many  and  not  that  of  the  few.  He 
was  only  a  poor  labourer,  "  the  Carpenter."  From  this  we 
were  meant  to  learn  that  our  condition  before  God  consists 
in  our  inner  and  not  in  our  outer  life — that  Gpd  does  not 
value  a  man  for  his  money,  for  his  profession,  or  for  the 
titles  and  alphabet  of  letters  he  attaches  to  his  name  as 
advertisements  of  respectability.  How  different  from  God's 
is  our  estimate  of  our  fellow-creatures  !  He  values  us  for 
what  we  are,  while  we  value  ourselves  and  others  for  what 
we  have.  We  talk  of  a  man  being  "  worth  "  so  much  a 
year,  and  dare  to  estimate  men  and  women,  for  whom  the 
Lord  of  Glory  came  down  to  die,  only  by  the  size  of  their 
houses,  the  number  of  their  servants,  and  such-like  acci- 
dental outward  circumstances. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  a  Persian  prince  which  well 
illustrates  such  worldliness.  Dressed  as  a  poor  man,  this 
prince  went  to  a  feast.  He  was  pushed  here  and  there, 
could  not  get  to  the  table,  and  had  soon  to  withdraw.  On 
going  home,  he  dressed  himself  in  his  best,  placing  jewelled 
slippers  on  his  feet,  and  putting  on  a  cloth-of-gold  cloak. 
Then  he  returned  to  the  feast,  where  matters  were  imme- 
diately altered.  The  guests  made  room,  and  the  host, 
rushing  up,  cried,  "  Welcome,  my  lord !  What  will  your 


28  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

lordship  please  to  eat?"  The  prince's  answer  was  very 
expressive.  Stretching  out  his  foot,  so  that  his  slipper 
sparkled  and  glittered,  he  took  his  golden  robe  in  his  hand, 
and  said  with  bitter  irony,  "  Welcome,  my  lord  coat  ! 
welcome,  most  excellent  robe !  What  will  your  lordship 
please  to  eat  ?  For,''  said  he,  turning  to  his  surprised  host, 
"  I  ought  to  ask  my  coat  what  it  will  eat,  since  the  welcome 
was  solely  to  it." 

Then  you  hear  people  apologizing  for  their  business,  and 
saying  that^  they  were  the  first  of  the  family  who  ever  had 
to  do  anything,  or  ever  were  in  trade ;  as  if  they  should  be 
ashamed  of  any  honest  work,  and  should  not  be  far  more 
ashamed  to  confess  that  their  forefathers  were  idle  do- 
nothings,  who  only  lived  for  themselves.  The  man  who 
"  knows  his  grandfathers  "  and  the  man  who  does  not,  only 
differ  in  this,  that  one  knows  that  many  of  them  deserved 
to  be  hanged,  while  the  other  remains  in  blissful  ignorance 
of  the  probable  fact.  To  a  British  snob  an  American  said, 
"Sir,  my  family  began  where  yours  ended." 

As  another  instance  of  this  spirit,  consider  in  what  an 
arbitrary  way  we  give  or  withhold  the  title  of  "  gentleman," 
giving  it  to  those  who  are  well  off,  as  far,  at  least,  as  money 
is  concerned,  though  they  may  have  every  vice,  and  may 
be  quite  the  reverse  of  gentle ;  and  refusing  it  to  many  truly 
gentle  ones  because  they  have  little  treasure  on  earth.  The 
duties  of  a  gentleman  have  been  well  summed  up  in  a  few 
questions  by  a  popular  writer.  "  What  is  it  to  be  a  gentle- 
man ? "  he  says.  "  Is  it  to  be  honest,  to  be  gentle,  to  be 
generous,  to  be  brave,  to  be  wise ;  and,  possessing  all  these 


"  GOD  ALMIGPITYS  GENTLEMEN?  29 

qualities,  to  exercise  them  in  the  most  graceful  outward 
manner?  Ought  a  gentleman  to  be  a  good  son,  a  true 
husband,  an  honest  father?  Ought  his  life  to  be  decent, 
his  bills  paid,  his  tastes  to  be  high  and  elegant,  his  aims  in 
life  to  be  noble  ?  Yes,  he  should  be  all  these,  and  some- 
what more ;  and  these  all  men  can  be,  and  women,  too." 
Thus  it  is  that  a  true  Christian  is  a  true  gentleman,  and 
none  other.  Every  British  workman,  however  poor,  might 
be  a  gentleman,  if  he  would  live  soberly  and  respect  himself, 
for  "  the  first  true  Gentleman  that  ever  breathed"  was  only 
"  the  Carpenter." 

••  The  best  of  men 

That  e'er  wore  earth  about  Him  was  a  Sufferer ; 
A  soft,  meek,  patient,  humble,  tranquil  spirit ; 
The  first  true  Gentleman  that  ever  breathed." 

The  church  of  Christ  has  been  too  backward  in  proclaim- 
ing the  equality  of  all  men  and  women  who  have  an  equal 
measure  of  Christ's  Spirit.  Yet  those  who  refuse  to  call  all 
Christ's  brothers  and  sisters  equal  who  have  equal  moral 
worth,  though  they  may  honour  their  Saviour  with  their  lips, 
deny  Him  in  His  brethren.  So  long  as  we  do  this,  that 
mind  is  not  in  us  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus,  "  who,  being  in 
the  form  of  God,  made  Himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took 
upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant." 

"  Oh  !  let  us  keep  our  proper  stations, 
Bless  the  squire  and  his  relations  ; 
Be  thankful  for  our  daily  rations, 
And  humbly  fill  our  occupations  J  " 

The  duly  of  striving  after  such  a  standard  of  perfection  as 


30  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

this  has  been  preached  rather  more  than  enough  to  the  poor, 
but  the  Bible  tells  the  rich  that  they  too  have  occupations, 
and  that  they  must  humbly  fill  them. 

Our  Lord  laid  down  emphatically  that  in  His  kingdom 
men  were  to  be  esteemed  worthy  not  in  proportion  to  their 
wealth  or  hereditary  rank,  but  in  proportion  to  their  capacity 
to  serve.  "Whosoever  will  be  great  among  you,  let  him 
be  your  minister."  Those  whom  the  Gospel  would  have 
humble  and  meek  are  the  rich,  and  great,  and  strong.  The 
strong  are  to  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and  the  meek 
are  to  inherit  the  earth.  "All  of  you  be  subject  one  to 
another." 

The  fact  that  the  schoolmaster  is  abroad,  that  a  newspaper 
can  be  bought  for  one  penny,  that  railways  carry  artizans 
cheaply  to  the  best  market  for  their  labour,  that  numbers  of 
men  are  now  brought  together  to  work  socially  under  the 
same  roof — these  things  are  fast  rendering  antiquated  the  old 
theory  of  dependence  and  protection — the  theory  that  the 
lot  of  the  poor  should  be  regulated  for  them  and  not  by 
them  ;  that  the  rich  should  be  in  loco  parentis  to  the  poor, 
guiding  and  restraining  them  like  children.  Now  since  we 
cannot,  even  if  we  would,  prevent  the  labouring  classes  from 
becoming  independent,  ought  we  not  to  show  them  how  to 
Christianize  their  independence  ?  We  should  say  to  them  : 
You  are  quite  right  in  thinking  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons.  We  Christians  sympathize  with  your  endeavours 
to  acquire  the  virtues  of  freemen ;  but  take  care  that  while 
freeing  yourselves  from  other  masters  you  do  not  become 
the  slaves  of  your  lower  selves.  To  prevent  this  you  must 


"  GOD  ALMIGHTY'S  GENTLEMEN"  31 

become  His  servants  whose  service  is  perfect  freedom.  He 
in  whom  there  is  neither  bond  nor  free,  He  who,  when  on 
earth,  was  called  "  the  Carpenter,"  has  a  message  for  the 
working  classes,  which  if  they  will  accept  they  shall  be  free 
indeed. 

Neither  the  possession  of  a  vote  by  the  poor  nor  the 
fashionable  philanthropy  of  the  rich  can  regenerate  society. 
Nothing  but  true  Christianity  can  raise  the  characters  of  the 
poor  and  humble  the  pride  of  the  rich,  so  that  both  ends  of 
society  may  enjoy  Christian  liberty,  which  is  just  the  reverse 
of  atheistical  licence.  Only  Christ  Himself  can  bring  about 
equality  and  fraternity  between  different  classes.  Without 
His  Spirit  guiding  men,  how  could  there  be  such  a  thing  as 
equality?  for  he  would  take  who  had  the  power,  and  he 
would  keep  who  could.  Christ  is  the  only  foundation  for 
true  brotherhood.  Nothing  can  bridge  over  the  chasm  which 
unhappily  separates  class  from  class  except  mutual  forbear- 
ance and  self-sacrifice ;  in  other  words,  a  realization  of  "  the 
Carpenter's  "  spirit. 

There  will  always  be  class  distinctions,  for  this  simple 
reason,  that  ability,  perseverance,  and  good  character  must 
make  people  to  differ ;  but  the  name  of  gentleman  or  lady 
may  be  deserved  by  every  individual.  Because  manners 
spring  from  the  heart,  we  find  boors  among  princes,  and 
that  fine  feeling  and  consideration  for  others  which  constitute 
good  breeding  among  horny-handed  sons  and  daughters  of 
toil.  The  "  lower  orders,"  properly  speaking,,  are  the  bad, 
and  their  "  betters  "  the  good  and  wise.  Certainly,  the 
Saviour  of  men,  who  was  Himself  only  "the  Carpenter," 


32  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

never  once  spoke  of  any  of  His  brothers  and  sisters  as 
"  common  people."  This  we  too  often  forget,  and  there  are 
mean  flatterers  who  call  the  merely  rich  "  their  betters  "  for 
the  sake  of  gain,  while  the  phrase  "  lower  orders  "  is  much 
used  by  persons  whose  clothes  are  better  than  their 
Christianity. 

But  though  all  men  might  be  and  should  be  gentlemen, 
there  are  but  too  many  who  do  not  deserve  the  title.  These 
are  they  who  forget  that  every  title  and  position  has  its 
responsibilities.  "  We  must  be  gentle,  now  we  are  gentlemen." 
The  man  who  aims  at  becoming  one  of  God's  own  gentle- 
men must  free  himself  from  certain  sadly  common  sins. 
Now  it  must  be  confessed  by  working  people's  true  friends 
— that  is,  by  those  who  do  not  flatter  them — that  as  long  as 
they  tolerate  and  make  light  of  the  sin  of  drunkenness,  no 
real  gentility  belongs  to  them  as  a  class. 

It  is  a  painful  fact,  that  fifty  years  ago,  those  who  were 
called  "  gentlemen  "  felt  no  shame  at  leaving  dinner-parties 
in  a  disgusting  state  of  intoxication.  Nay,  they  were  even 
proud  of  the  very  ignoble  distinction,  as  it  seems  to  us  now, 
of  being  "three-bottle  men."  Then  men  of  the  middle  and 
upper  classes  who  in  any  degree  resisted  the  "  Devil  in 
solution  "  were  laughed  at  for  their  sobriety.  The  "  argu- 
ment of  a  grin  "  was  on  the  side  of  drunkenness  amongst 
fox-hunting  squires.  Now  all  this  is  changed,  and  if  a 
gentleman  were  to  exceed  at  a  dinner-party,  his  presence 
would  not  be  desired  at  another.  When  will  working  people 
as  a  class  do  what  the  best  of  them  do — despise  and  ridicule, 
not  their  sober,  but  their  drunken  companions  ?  When  will 


*  GOD  ALMIGHTY'S  GENTLEMEN."  33 

the  public  opinion  of  artizans  be  firmly  opposed  to  that 
dreary  and  deadly  habit  of  spending  two  days  out  of  seven 
in  a  public-house  ?  Let  British  workmen  and  workwomen 
"  cut "  those  of  their  associates  who  disgrace  their  calling ; 
let  them  speak  of  those  as  "sots,"  and  the  reverse  of  gentle- 
men who  stand  for  hours  drinking  away  their  honour,  repu- 
tation, and  money,  in  glasses  of  "  wet  damnation,"  more 
costly  than  the  wine  in  which  Cleopatra  dissolved  her  pearls. 
Let  them  talk  of  the  sin  of  intemperance  sternly,  and  not  as 
if  it  were  an  innocent  pastime,  calling  it  "abend,"  "a spree," 
"a  wet,"  and  such  demoralizing  pet  names. 

When,  but  only  when,  the  working  classes  change  their 
sentiments  in  this  matter,  each  one  of  them  may,  by  the 
grace  of  Almighty  God,  become  His  gentleman.  And 
is  it  not  the  high  calling  of  British  workwomen  to  endeavour, 
by  their  example,  management,  and  loving-kindness,  to  mould 
sober  gentlemen  out  of  drunken  roughs  ? 

"  Oh,  woman  !  lovely  woman  !  nature  made  thee 
To  temper  men  ;  we  had  been  brutes  without  you. 
Angels  are  painted  fair,  to  look  like  you  : 
There's  in  you  all  that  we  believe  of  heaven — • 
Amazing  brightness,  purity,  and  truth 
Eternal  joy,  and  everlasting  love." 


CHAPTER  III. 


WANTED A    MAN  ! 


"  Se'f- reverence,  self-knowledge,  self-control, 
These  thre-:  alone  lead  man  to  sovereign  power." — Tennyson. 

"  Run  ye  to  and  fro  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  and  see  now, 
and  know,  and  seek  in  the  broad  places  thereof,  if  ye  can  find  a 
man."— -Jeremiah. 

[HAT  was  so  hard  to  find  in  Jerusalem  three 
thousand  years  ago  (Jeremiah  v.  i)  is  not 
much  more  common  now,  even  amongst  the 
five  million  inhabitants  of  London.  The 
philosopher,  Diogenes,  sought  with  a  lantern 
at  noontide  in  ancient  Athens  for  a  perfectly  honest  man, 
and  sought  in  vain.  In  the  market-place  he  once  cried 
aloud,  "  Hear  me,  O  men  ! "  and  when  a  crowd  collected 
round  him,  he  said,  scornfully,  "I  called  for  men,  not 
pigmies."  The  fact  is  that  while  human  creatures  are 
plentiful,  men — real  true  men — are  very  few.  It  is  difficult 


WANTED— A  MAN!  35 

to  get  men  with  proper  physical  development  for -the  army. 
Boys  and  hobbledehoys  can  be  got,  but  there  is  a  scarcity 
of  men.  How  much  more  difficult  is  it  to  find  men  with 
moral  measurements  such  as  fit  them  for  God's  service  in 
the  'war  against  sin  ! 

What  is  it  that  makes  a  man  ?  It  is  not  mere  largeness 
of  body,  nor  even  athletic  proficiency,  for  some  of  the 
greatest  soldiers  have  been  little  men.  Napoleon,  Welling- 
ton, and  the  hero  of  Khartoum,  were  great  in  spirit,  but  not 
in  body.  What  are  called  "  manly  sports  "  do  much  good 
in  training  our  bodies,  but  many  of  the  greatest  men  have 
been  no  good  at  athletics.  A  man  may  be  weak  in  body, 
as  was  St.  Paul,  but  he  may  be  very  strong  in  conscience, 
heart,  mind,  soul,  and  will.  On  the  other  hand,  a  very 
Hercules  in  bodily  development  is  not  a  man  at  all,  if  these, 
the  highest  qualities  of  man's  nature,  be  left  out  of  his 
composition. 

What  is  a  man  without  a  conscience?  A  brute — nay, 
lower  than  that,  for  even  a  respectable  horse  and  dog  know 
when  they  have  done  wrong,  and  have  the  grace  to  be  sorry 
for  it.  The  dog's  master  can  read  that  much  in  his  sad 
eyes  and  penitent  tail.  Wanted,  a  MAN  who  will  honestly 
obey  the  dictates  of  his  conscience. 

"  Man  is  his  own  star,  and  that  soul  that  can 
Be  honest  is  the  only  perfect  man." 

Again,  when  the  heart  or  affections  have  died  out,  a  good 
part  of  the  man  is  gone.  You  cannot  call  him  a  man  who 
has  no  feeling  for  others,  and  who  heeds  not  what  sorrow 
he  causes,  so  long  as  he  can  gratify  his  desires.  He  who 


36  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

in  this  way  hardens  all  within  himself  and  petrifies  his 
feelings  is  no  longer  a  man.  How  different  it  is  with  him 
who  leads  a  Christian  life  !  His  strength  is  as  the  strength 
of  ten,  because  his  heart  is  pure.  He  is  the  highest  style 
of  man. 

Sometimes  one  meets  with  a  man  of  gigantic  bodily 
proportions,  and  we  look  up  to  him  with  admiration. 
Such  a  fine  man  !  But  no,  after  talking  to  him  a  little  our 
opinion  quite  changes.  His  talk  is  childish,  for  he  has 
never  cultivated  any  of  the  powers  of  his  mind,  and  we  say 
to  ourselves  in  disappointment — "  Wanted,  a  man  !  " 

Worse  still  are  soulless  beings,  who  have  the  form  of 
men  but  not  the  reality — because  they  have  lost  their  souls. 
The  soul  is  like  a  curious  chamber  with  elastic  walls,  that 
can  be  expanded,  with  God  as  its  guest,  almost  to  infinity, 
but  which  without  God  shrinks  and  shrivels  until  every 
vestige  of  the  Divine  is  gone.  One  cannot  call  him  a  man, 
however  muscular  he  may  be,  from  whom  every  vestige  of 
the  image  of  God  in  which  he  was  made  has  been  obliterated 
by  neglect  or  abuse. 

He  is  a  man  who  has  a  will  to  do  and  a  soul  to  dare, 
however  insignificant  the  measurements  of  his  body. 
Shakespeare  represents  one  of  his  characters  saying  to  his 
body  on  the  morning  of  a  battle — 

"  Thou  tremblest,  my  poor  body, 
But  if  thou  knewest  where  I  will  bring  you  this  day, 
Thou  wouldst  tremble  much  more." 

Was  not  that  a  man,  because  his  spirit  was  willing,  though 
his  flesh  and  nerves  were  weak  ? 


\ 

WANTED— A  MAN!  37 


A  true  man  has  enough  strength  of  will  to  possess  or 
keep  a  mastery  over  his  body,  with  all  its  desires  and 
passions.  Knowing  that  the  body  is  a  very  good  servant 
but  a  very  bad  master,  he  keeps  it  under  and  brings  it  into 
subjection.  He  trains  his  passions  to  be  controlled  like  a 
well-trained  spaniel.  He  has  that  self-reverence  and  self- 
restraint  which  lead  men  to  sovereign  power.  He  is  able 
to  say  "  No  "  to  temptation,  and  therefore  he  is  a  MAN,  the 
highest  and  noblest  of  God's  creatures.  What  a  glorious 
epitaph  that  was  which  was  once  placed  on  the  stone  above 
a  soldier's  grave — 

"  Here  lies  a  soldier  whom  all  must  applaud, 

Who  fought  many  battles,  at  home  and  abroad  ; 
But  the  hottest  engagement  he  ever  was  in, 
Was  the  conquest  of  self  in  the  battle  of  sin." 

Whatever  withdraws  us  from  the  power  of  the  senses, 
whatever  makes  the  past,  the  distant,  and  the  future,  pre- 
dominate over  the  passing  interests  of  the  present,  advances 
us  in  the  dignity  of  human  beings. 

"  I  knew,"  says  Gough,  the  Temperance  orator,  "  a  man 
who  said  he  would  give  up  chewing  tobacco.  He  took 
his  plug  of  tobacco  out  of  his  pocket  and  threw  it  away, 
and  said,  'That  is  the  end  of  my  job/  But  it  was  the 
beginning.  How  he  did  want  it !  He  chewed  gentian  and 
chewed  chamomile  flowers,  and  chewed  anything  to  keep 
his  jaws  going.  Nothing  satisfied  him.  He  said  the  very 
tip  of  his  tongue  clamoured  for  the  stimulant.  He  said, 
'  I  will  go  and  get  another.  I  will  buy  another  plug,  and 
when  I  want  it  awfully  then  I'll  take  a  little.'  And  he  did 


38  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

want  it  awfully ;  and  he  took  his  knife  and  piece  of  tobacco, 
and  then  he  said  he  thought  it  was  God's  Spirit  striving 
with  him.  He  held  it  in  his  hand,  and  said,  '  I  love  you, 
and  I  want  you.  Are  you  my  master,  or  am  I  yours? 
That  is  a  question  I  am  going  to  settle.  You  are  a  weed 
and  I  am  a  man.  You  are  a  fiend  and  I  am  a  man.  You 
black  devil,  I  will  master  you  if  I  die  for  it.  It  never  shall 
be  said  of  me  again — There  is  a  man  mastered  by  a  thing. 
I  want  you,  but  I  will  fight  against  you  to  the  last.'  It 
was  six  months  before  he  got  rid  of  the  craving ;  but  he 
fought  the  battle  and  won,  because  he  was  a  man." 

In  judging  our  neighbours,  what's  done  we  partly  may 
compute,  but  know  not  what's  resisted.  As  much  grace  as 
would  make  John  a  saint  would  hardly  keep  Peter  from 
knocking  a  man  down.  Robert  Collyer  said,  "  I  heard  a 
man  say  that  for  twenty-eight  years  the  soul  within  him  had 
to  stand  like  an  unsleeping  sentinel,  guarding  his  appetite 
for  strong  drink."  That  was  a  man,  because  he  battled 
against  his  besetting  sin.  In  the  story  of  "Romola,"  George 
Eliot  draws  the  picture  of  a  man,  good,  generous,  hand- 
some, with  all  the  appliances  and  means  of  doing  good, 
who,  "  because  he  tried  to  slip  away  from  everything  that 
was  unpleasant,  and  cared  for  nothing  so  much  as  his  own 
safety,  came  at  last  to  commit  some  of  the  basest  deeds 
such  as  make  men  infamous." 

This  slipping  away  from  everything  unpleasant,  and  only 
caring  for  present  ease  and  enjoyment,  is  the  characteristic 
of  those  who  are  wanting  in  manhood,  and  who  fail  to  come 
up  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  perfect  Man,  Jesus 


WANTED— A  MAN!  39 

Christ.  The  test  of  manhood  is  ability  to  deny  one's  self 
in  the  present  for  the  sake  of  the  future,  in  the  seen  for  the 
sake  of  the  unseen. 

Oh  !  that  we  could  fight  our  battle  of  life  and  slay  our 
spiritual  enemies  with  the  patience,  determination  and  self- 
denying  resolution  exhibited  by  those  of  Gideon's  army  who, 
when  God  tried  their  manhood  at  the  water-edge,  were  not 
found  wanting  !  On  they  went,  in  pursuit  of  their  vanquished 
foes,  and  when  they  passed  over  Jordan,  with  Gideon  at 
their  head,  they  are  described  as  "  faint  yet  pursuing." 

No  higher  praise  could  be  given  to  any  man  or  woman 
than  this — "  faint  yet  pursuing."  It  is  easy  for  the  strong 
and  the  unwearied  to  pursue;  but  when  our  resolutions 
have  failed  over  and  over  again — when  we  are  wounded 
almost  to  death  by  the  fiery  darts  of  temptation — if  then  we 
pursue  and  do  not  give  up,  we  shall  receive  from  God  the 
praise,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant;  you  have  done 
what  you  could." 

How  many  are  faint  and  weary  in  the  battle  of  life  ! 
Some  have  the  temptations  of  poverty  to  endure,  others 
have  the  no  less  temptations  of  riches.  This  man  hates  his 
profession  or  business;  the  domestic  surroundings  of  this 
woman  are  by  no  means  what  she  likes.  All  are  disap- 
pointed, and  to  some  life  itself  seems  scarcely  worth  living. 
This  being  the  case,  what  will  they  do  ?  Will  they — when 
God  is  trying  their  manhood  and  womanhood — will  they 
yield  to  selfishness  and  indolence,  as  did  the  nine  thousand 
and  seven  hundred  of  Gideon's  army,  who  lay  down  like 
beast  by  the  waterside,  or  will  they — under  the  leadership  of 


40  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN:1 

their  Captain,  Christ — continue  to  pursue,  though  faint,  the 
enemies  of  their  soul  ?  What  are  wanted  is  not  "  little  wee 
bit  mannikins,"  but  men.  When  General  Garfield  was 
asked,  as  a  young  boy,  "what  he  meant  to  be,"  he 
answered:  "  First  of  all  I  must  make  myself  a  man;  if  I 
do  not  succeed  in  that,  I  can  succeed  in  nothing."  "  Before 
I  go  any  further,"  says  Frank  Osbaldistone,  in  "  Rob  Roy," 
"I  must  know  who  you  are."  "I  am  a  man,"  is  the 
answer,  "  and  my  purpose  is  friendly."  "A  man,"  he  replied ; 
"  that  is  a  brief  description."  "It  will  serve,"  answered  Rob 
Roy,  "  for  one  who  has  no  other  to  give.  He  that  is  with- 
out name,  without  friends,  without  coin,  without  country,  is 
still  at  least  a  man ;  and  he  that  has  all  these  is  no  more." 

It  has  been  beautifully  said  that  the  true  Shechinah  is 
man — roan  made  in  God's  image  with  far-reaching  intellect, 
noble  heart,  eternal  being. 

"  Mind  that  looks  before  and  after, 

Seeking  for  its  home  above, 
Human  tears  and  human  laughter, 
And  the  depth  of  human  love." 

The  Jews  would  not  tread  on  the  smallest  bit  of  paper,  for, 
•  said  they,  it  may  have  written  on  it  the  name  of  God.  We 
could  honour  all  men  and  would  never  lose  our  own  self- 
respect  if  we  refused  to  dishonour  the  lowest  who  has  any 
of  Christ's  image  in  him. 

Wanted,  a  man  "  who,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is  full  of  life 
and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to  come  to  heel  by 
a  strong  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender  conscience ;  who  has 
learned  to  love  all  beauty,  whether  of  nature  or  of  art,  ta 


WANTED— A  MAN/ 


hate  all  vileness,  and  to  respect  others  as  himself."  If  we 
would  "  mark  the  perfect  man  and  behold  the  upright,"  we 
must  look  at  Jesus.  He  is  our  example  of  perfect  manhood, 
and  the  nearer  we  live  to  Him  the  more  manly  we  shall  be. 
Would  you  be  a  man  ? 

"  Take  thou  no  thought  for  aught  but  truth  and  right, 
Content,  if  such  thy  fate,  to  die  obscure ; 
Youth  fails  and  honours  ;  fame  may  not  endure 
And  loftier  souls  soon  weary  of  delight. 
Keep  innocence  ;  be  all  a  true  man  ought, 
Let  neither  pleasure  tempt  nor  pain  appal ; 
Who  hath  this,  he  hath  all  things  having  naught  J 
Who  hath  it  not,  hath  nothing  having  all." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


WOMAN'S  WORK — TO  PLEASE. 


"  Skilled  in  every  art 
That  ennobles  and  uplifts 

And  delights  the  heart 
Fair  on  earth  shall  be  thy  fame 

As  thy  face  is  fair." — Longfellow. 

"  Blessed  with  that  charm,  the  certainty  to  please." — Rogers. 

|WEETNESS  is  to  woman  what  sugar  is  to 
fruit.  It  is  her  first  business  to  be  happy — 
a  sunbeam  in  the  house,  making  others 
happy.  True,  she  will  often  have  "  a  tear  in 
her  eye,"  but,  like  the  bride  ol  young 
Lochinvar,  it  must  be  accompanied  with  "  a  smile  on  her 
lips." 

Girls  and  women  are  willing  enough  to  be  agreeable  to 


WOMAN'S  WORK— TO  PLEASE.  43 

men  if  they  do  not  happen  to  stand  to  them  in  the  relation 
of  father,  brother,  or  husband ;  but  it  is  not  every  woman 
who  remembers  that  her  raison  d'etre  is  to  give  out  pleasure 
to  all  as  a  fire  gives  out  heat. 

A  woman's  smile  has  been  the  making  of  many  a  man. 
"  You  smiled  upon  me,"  says  Petrarch,  u  and  I  thought  it 
was  spring,  and  my  heart  put  forth  the  flowers  of  hope." 
"  Why  don't  you  laugh,  mother  ?  "  said  a  little  three-year-old 
daughter,  as  her  mother,  with  clouded  countenance,  was 
dressing  the  little  one.  The  earnest  tone  of  the  child 
provoked  the  wished-for  laugh,  and  the  little  heart  was 
happy.  The  cheery  laugh  of  a  mother  goes  down  through 
generations,  as  well  as  her  frown.  And  when  the  mother's 
eyes  are  closed,  and  lips  and  hands  for  ever  still,  she  can 
have  no  nobler  epitaph  than  one  which  may  be  seen  in  a 
certain  churchyard  on  a  plain  marble  stone : 

"  She  always  made  home  happy." 

Nursing  the  sick  is  pre-eminently  woman's  work,  and  even 
more  than  children  are  sick  people  pleased  by  a  cheerful 
face.  It  is  nearly  as  good  for  them  as  healthy  weather. 

How  can  we  better  make  others  happy  than  by  being 
cheerful  and  happy  ourselves  ?  The  happy  are  those  who 
bestow  happiness.  It  is  said  that  a  certain  commander-in- 
chief  invariably  inquired  whether  he  was  a  happy  man  when 
anew  general  was  proposed  to  him.  Is  she  happy? — />., 
is  she  open-hearted,  unsophisticated,  good-tempered — is  she 
sympathetic,  humble-minded,  grateful — is  she  self-forgetful  ? 
What  can  women  do  ?  Say  rather  what  can  they  be  ? 


44  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN* 

"  Birds  by  being  glad  their  Maker  bless, 

By  simply  shining  sun  and  star ; 
And  we,  whose  law  is  love,  serve  less 
By  what  we  do  than  what  we  are." 

If  woman's  mission  in  life  is  to  please,  she  ought  to  be 
unlike  the  wife  of  the  artist  Durer,  whose  father  once  asked 
her  quite  gravely  to  laugh,  so  that  he  might  see  his  daughter 
lively  for  once — were  it  only  in  appearance.  Rather  let  her 
try  to  resemble  little  Miss  Laugh,  and  to  be  as  different  as 
possible  from  little  Miss  Fret.  • 

"  Cries  little  Miss  Fret, 

In  a  very  great  pet : 
'  I  hate  this  warm  weather ;  it's  horrid  to  tan. 

It  scorches  my  nose, 

And  it  blisters  my  toes, 
And  wherever  I  go  I  must  carry  a  fan.' 

Chirps  little  Miss  Laugh : 

'Why,  I  couldn't  tell  half 
The  fun  I  am  having  this  bright  summer  day. 

I  sing  through  the  hours, 

I  cull  pretty  flowers, 
And  ride  like  a  queen  on  the  sweet-smelling  hay.' " 

The  following  is  related  of  the  late  Czarina,  wife  of  the 
Czar  of  Russia.  While  visiting  the  Smolnoje  Institute  for 
Girls,  some  years  ago,  the  Empress,  during  the  examination 
of  the  pupils,  suddenly  asked,  "  What  is  love  ?  "  The  young 
ladies  became  greatly  confused,  and  were  silent.  Madame 
Leontieff,  the  directress,  begged  leave  to  state  to  Her  Majesty 
that  all  knowledge  of  this  dangerous  subject  was  prohibited 
by  her,  and  that,  in  all  probability,  the  pupils  did  not  even 
know  the  meaning  of  the  word.  The  Czarina  frowned. 


WOMAN'S  WORK— TO  PLEASE.  45 


"  So  far  from  being  a  dangerous  subject,  Madame,"  she  said, 
"  love  should  be  the  pure  mainspring  of  a  woman's  life  : 
first,  love  for  her  parents ;  then,  love  for  her  husband  ;  lastly, 
love  for  her  children;  and  love  for  God  always."  This  love 
will  suggest  to  a  true  woman,  every  day  and  every  hour,  some 
way  of  lessening  the  world's  misery.  She  will  have  always 
before  her  eyes  two  heaps — one  of  human  happiness,  and 
one  of  misery,  and  her  continual  effort  will  be  to  take  even 
the  smallest  bit  from  the  second  heap  and  add  to  the  first. 
She  does  not  neglect  little  means  of  giving  pleasure  because 
she  cannot  do  great  things.  She  ha^  learned  the  art  of 
doing  little  kindnesses  in  the  kindest  manner. 

Most  women  desire  to  please,  but  many  of  them  set  about 
making  themselves  attractive  in  a  wrong  way.  Dress  alone 
will  not  do  it,  and  no  cosmetic  beautifies  the  face  as  much 
as  an  unselfish  temper.  "  Woman's  fineness,"  says  Jeremy 
Taylor,  "  is  sweetness  of  manners."  It  is  narrated  of  the 
great  sculptor  Michael  Angelo,  that  when  at  work  he  wore 
over  his  forehead,  fastened  to  his  artist's  cap,  a  lighted 
candle,  in  order  that  no  shadow  of  himself  might  fall  on  his 
work.  It  was  a  beautiful  habit,  and  one  that  taught  an 
eloquent  lesson,  for  the  shadows  that  fall  on  our  work — how 
often  they  fall  from  ourselves  !  We  must  forget  either  our- 
selves or  others,  and,  as  the  selfish  prefer  the  latter  alternative, 
if  they  give  pleasure  at  all  it  is  only  by  accident. 

Music  and  other  accomplishments  are  learned  as  means  01 
pleasing,  but  it  may  be  doubted  whether  anything  makes  a 
woman  so  agreeable  as  a  well-cultivated  mind.  Without  being 
either  a  prig  or  a  blue-stocking,  she  should  take  an  interest 


46  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

in  the  questions  of  the  day,  read  the  best  books,  and  in  every 
way  fit  herself  for  giving  intellectual  pleasure.  Women  who 
have  not  allowed  their  brains  to  die  for  want  of  use  may 
rather  terrify  empty-headed  men,  but  they  have  their  reward 
in  knowing  that  the  thoughtful  and  educated  can  talk  to  them 
as  to  equals,  and  are  not  obliged  to  talk  down  to  them.  Intel- 
lectual resources  enable  women  to  be  bright  and  winsome 
companions  in  the  home  circle  when  the  beauty  of  youth  is 
faded. 

Charity,  which  means  "giving  such  things  as  we  have," 
not  only  money,  food,  and  clothing,  but,  what  women  are 
especially  capable  of  giving,  sympathy,  forbearance,  patience, 
and  kindness — this  charity  should  begin  at  home,  but  it 
should  not  end  there.  Women's  desire  to  give  pleasure  is 
now  suggesting  to  them  all  kinds  of  ingenious  plans  for  bring- 
ing brightness  into  the  homes  of  the  dim  millions.  Feeling 
that  it  is  their  mission  to  add  in  some  degree  to  the  happi- 
ness of  the  world,  and  to  diminish  its  misery,  conscientious 
women  are  now  trying  to  use  the  talent  of  pleasing  which 
God  has  given,  not  selfishly,  to  please  those  who  can  repay, 
but  to  please  those  who  have  nothing,  in  some  cases  not 
even  gratitude,  to  give  in  return.  What  a  woman  should  try 
to  form  is  the  habit  of  pleasing  every  one  without  interested 
motives — the  servants  in  her  house  as  well  as  visitors,  the  poor 
as  well  as  the  rich.  To  consider  the  troubles  of  those  around 
her,  and  to  try  to  alleviate  them ;  to  allow  servants  oppor- 
tunities for  fresh  air  and  exercise,  recreation,  and  self-im- 
provement ;  to  minister,  as  far  as  she  can,  to  the  sick  and 
sorrowful ;  to  be  neighbourly,  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  word, 


WOMAN'S  WORK— TO  PLEASE.  47 

to  those  among  whom  she  dwells,  yet  not  to  neglect  her  home 
or  her  social  relations ;  to  cultivate  her  mind  and  any  gifts 
she  may  possess— all  these  duties  take  time  and  energy  ;  but 
when  rightly  performed  they  are  the  glory  of  womanhood. 

"  Do  not  make  yourselves  disagreeable  in  little  things." 
This  advice,  which  was  given  by  the  President  of  a  late 
Church  Congress,  ought  to  be  taken  to  heart  by  woman,  for 
as  the  corruption  of  the  best  becomes  the  worst,  so  she  who 
by  nature  is  especially  adapted  to  please  may  become 
intensely  disagreeable  if  she  pervert  her  talent.  If  her  dress 
be  untidy ;  if  there  be  not  scrupulous  regard  to  personal 
cleanliness;  if  her  manner  be  brusque  or  her  temper  sulky  ; 
if  she  cannot  read  aloud  distinctly  ;  if  her  voice  be  loud,  and 
she  can  talk  of  nothing  but  spiteful  gossip  or  the  delin- 
quencies of  servants ;  if  she  be  incapable  of  sympathizing 
with  the  serious  pursuits  of  father,  brother,  or  husband — of 
such  a  woman  it  can  scarcely  be  said  that  she  is  "blest  with 
that  charm,  the  certainty  to  please."  "  Please  the  eyes  and 
ears,  and  you  will  win  the  heart,"  but  the  woman  we  have 
been  speaking  about  does  neither. 

Beauty  and  accomplishments,  says  Chesterfield,  ought 
never  to  be  depreciated,  especially  by  those  who  have  them 
not,  but  they  cannot  give  as  much  pleasure  as  unselfishness, 
good  temper,  patience,  and  sympathy.  A  Christian  character 
is  an  ornament  and  an  accomplishment,  without  which  a 
woman  cannot  please  for  a  long  time  and  in  the  highest 
sense  of  the  word.  Speaking  of  a  governess  for  his  children, 
George  III.  said  of  a  certain  Mrs.  Campbell,  whose  character 
was  highly  recommended,  but  who  was  said  not  to  have  quite 


48  "  MA  NNERS  MAK  YTH  MAN? 

enough  accomplishments:  "We  can  afford  to  buy  accom- 
plishments, but  we  cannot  purchase  principles."  The  kind 
greeting,  the  message  of  love,  the  quick  glance  of  sympathy, 
the  courtesies  of  the  fireside,  the  charity  which  thinketh  no 
evil,  and  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly — these  things  make 
a  woman  "  charming."  They  are  the  richest  fruit  of  that  piety 
which,  beginning  at  home,  extends  its  happy  influence  to 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 

"  It  was  only  a  glad  '  good  morning ' 

As  she  passed  along  the  way, 
But  it  spread  the  morning's  glory 
Over  the  livelong  day." 

In  saying  that  a  talent  to  please  is  woman's  best  talent 
which  should  be  conscientiously  cultivated,  we  do  not  mean 
that  she  should  be  merely  good-natured.  We  are  well  aware 
that  to  be  weakly  good-natured  is  to  be  good-for-nothing. 
A  woman  will  fall  into  serious  error  or  sin  if  she  allow  her- 
self, for  the  sake  of  pleasing,  to  yield  indiscriminately  to 
requests  without  duly  considering  if  it  be  just  to  herself  and 
to  others  to  grant  them.  A  sense  of  the  due  proportion  of 
things  is  difficult  to  acquire,  but  is  most  important.  The 
truly  kind  person  must  be  prepared  on  occasion  to  say  "  No," 
and  to  say  it  decidedly. 

When  a  girl  is  called  "jolly,"  and  liked  by  fast  men,  it  is 
the  worst  compliment  they  can  pay  her.  The  more  haste  the 
less  speed,  for  fastness  which  wins  low  popularity  will  never 
win  a  husband  worth  having.  Of  course,  when  we  say  that 
it  is  woman's  work  to  please,  we  do  not  mean  that  she  should 
be  indifferent  as  to  the  means,  or  use  any  but  the  highest. 


WOMAN'S  WORK— TO  PLEASE.  49 

The  question  is  not  one  of  popularity,  which  is  to  a  great 
extent  an  accidental  thing — some  women  being  popular  who 
fully  deserve  to  be,  and  others  because  of  qualities  which 
they  ought  to  blush  to  possess.  The  American  poet,  Whittier, 
expresses  in  beautiful  verse  what  we  have  been  trying  to  say 
in  unadorned  prose  when  he  describes  the  true  wife. 

"  Flowers  spring  to  blossom  where  she  walks 

The  careful  ways  of  duty ; 
Our  hard,  stiff  lines  of  life  with  her 
Are  flowing  curves  of  beauty. 

Our  homes  are  cheerier  for  her  sake, 

Our  door-yards  brighter  blooming, 
And  all  about  the  social  air 

Is  sweeter  for  her  coming. 

Unspoken  homilies  of  peace 

Her  daily  life  is  preaching  ; 
The  still  refreshment  of  the  dew 

Is  her  unconscious  teaching. 

And  never  tenderer  hand  than  hers 

Unknits  the  brow  of  ailing  : 
Her  garments  to  the  sick  man's  ear 

Have  music  in  their  trailing. 

Her  presence  lends  a  warmth  and  health 

To  all  who  come  before  it. 
If  woman  lost  us  Eden,  such 

As  she  alone  restore  it." 


CHAPTER   V. 

MATRIMONIAL  MANNERS. 

"Love,  like  the  flower  that  courts  the  sun's  kind  ray, 
Will  flourish  only  in  the  smiles  of  day ; 
Distrust's  cold  air  the  generous  plant  annoys, 
And  one  chill  blight  of  dire  contempt  destroys. 
Oh  shun,  my  friends,  avoid  that  dangerous  coast, 
Where  peace  expires,  and  fair  affection's  lost, 
By  wit,  by  grief,  by  anger  urged,  forbear 
The  speech  contemptuous  and  the  scornful  a.\r"—rPerey. 

"  There  is  one  article  absolutely  necessary — to  be  ever  beloved,  one 
must  be  ever  agreeable." — Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu. 

|T  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  forms  of 
courtesy  can  be  safely  dispensed  with  in  the 
family  circle.  With  the  disappearance  of  the 
forms  the  reality  will  too  often  disappear.  On 
the  other  hand,  as  outward  actions,  and  even 
the  changes  of  countenance  and  expression  of  the  features 
have  a  tendency  to  call  forth  corresponding  emotions,  atten- 


MATRIMONIAL  MANNERS. 


tion  to  the  forms  of  civility  will  very  often  be  successful  in 
producing  the  reality.  If  you  force  yourself  to  smile  and 
look  cheerful,  bright  thoughts  are  sure  to  come  into  your 
mind,  though  you  may  have  been,  before  the  experiment, 
considerably  out  of  humour.  The  next  time  you  happen  to 
be  cross,  and  the  members  of  your  family  seem  natural 
enemies  instead  of  natural  friends,  try  this  remedy.  Smile 
and  say  something  pretty,  even  though  you  may  shrink  from 
the  effort  as  you  would  from  a  dentist's  chair.  You  will  have 
your  reward,  for  almost  immediately  a  bright  streak  of 
happiness  will  break  through  the  clouds  of  your  mind. 

"Politeness,"  said  Joubert,  "is  one  development  of 
virtue;"  and  in  reply  to  those- who  would  contend  that  it  is 
necessary  for  society  only,  not  for  home,  he  remarked  that 
we  should  wear  our  velvet  indoors — that  is,  give  those  nearest 
to  us  the  chief  benefit  of  gentleness.  How  many  put  on 
their  velvet  to  go  out  into  the  world,  and  consider  that  any- 
thing will  do  to  wear  at  home !  Politeness  is  their  court 
dress  which  they  change  for  a  dressing-gown  when  they 
return  home. 

Even  from  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word  we  might  infer 
that  politeness,  like  charity,  should  begin  at  home.  A  polite 
person  means,  in  the  first  instance,  one  who  displays  the 
virtues  of  a  good  citizen ;  but  as  nations  are  gathered  out  of 
families,  the  home  must  be  regarded  as  the  most  influential 
school  of  civilization.  From  that  source  issue  the  principles 
and  maxims  that  govern  society. 

A  really  good  manner  is  like  our  skin,  put  on  from  within, 
and  never  taken  off  while  we  are  alive.  Nature's  gentlemen 


52  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

and  ladies  are  always  gentlemen  and  ladies ;  but  there  are 
artificial  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  put  aside  their  good 
manners  with  their  good  clothes  in  the  privacy  of  their 
homes.  They  have  company  manners  for  abroad ;  but  home 
is  to  them  not  only  Liberty  Hall,  but  a  hall  of  licence,  where 
they  allow  their  natures  full  play. 

There  are  cowardly  creatures,  whose  attitude  in  the 
presence  of  superiors  has  been  well  described  as  one  of 
"  respectful  uneasiness."  This  sort  of  people  stretch  their 
manners  to  such  an  unnatural  degree  in  society  that  they  are 
pretty  sure  to  go  to  the  opposite  extreme  when  relaxing  at 
home.  Feeling  released  from  something  that  was  hanging 
over  them,  they  run  wild,  and  become  rude  in  consequence 
of  their  late  restraint. 

A  certain  Diogenic  philosopher  once  made  the  following 
amiable  confession  :  "  Relations  I  detest ;  connections  I 
hate ;  friends  I  dislike ;  acquaintances  I  tolerate ;  but  the 
only  people  I  really  like  are  the  people  I  don't  know."  It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  few  people  adopt  such  a  sliding  scale  01 
abhorrence,  and  yet  it  points  to  the  real  danger  of  familiarity 
breeding  if  not  contempt,  at  least  a  certain  amount  of  dis- 
regard for  the  feelings  of  those  with  whom  we  are  very 
intimate. 

Unless  married  people  are  so  very  sympathetic  that  they 
grow  together  "like  to  a  double  cherry,  seeming  parted," 
the  never-ceasing  round  of  intercourse  between  them  may 
become  so  exigeant  as  to  cause  abrupt,  unpolite  behaviour. 
At  breakfast,  at  luncheon,  at  dinner,  more  or  less  in  the 
evening,  at  night,  in  the  morning — all  "  marriage."  There 


MATRIMONIAL  MANNERS.  53 

is  generally  greater  harmony  when  a  husband's  duties 
necessitate  his  remaining  several  hours  of  the  day  from  home. 
"  For  this  relief  much  thanks  ! "  will  be  the  not  unnatural 
sentiment  of  a  grateful  wife.  And  to  the  husband,  on  his 
return, »home  will  appear  far  sweeter  than  if  he  had  idled 
about  the  house  all  day  with  nothing  to  do  but  torment  his 
wife. 

Richter  says  that  distance  injures  love  less  than  nearness. 
People  are  more  polite  when  they  do  not  see  too  much  of 
each  other.  Let  the  husband  then  have  a  "  den "  or 
"  growlery  "  to  which  he  may  retire  when  conscious  that  the 
animal  should  be  marked  "dangerous,''  and  the  wife  a 
boudoir  where  she  may  be  alone  when  inclined  "  to  pout  or 
be  sulky  " ;  which  is  the  suggestive  explanation  given  by  my 
dictionary  of  the  French  term  bonder,  from  which  comes  our 
word  boudoir  or  sulking-room  —  an  apartment  not  less 
necessary  surely  than  a  smoking  or  billiard-room.  Such 
expedients  alleviate  the  "very  much  married"  feeling  to 
which  reference  has  been  made.  When  they  meet  in  a  com- 
mon room  the  effect  will  be  apparent,  for  husband  and  wife 
will  be  far  more  polite  because  more  interesting  to  each  other. 

It  does  not  "  pay  "  to  be  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  any 
one,  but  least  of  all  to  those  of  a  life-partner.  When  people 
are  tied  for  life,  it  is  their  mutual  interest  not  to  grow  weary 
of  one  another,  and  the  best  possible  safeguards  they  can 
adopt  are  kindness  and  civility.  How  the  whole  day  is 
rendered  dismal  and  disagreeable  when  there  has  been  "  a 
storm "  in  the  breakfast  "  tea-cup "  between  husband  and 
wife !  As  far  as  happiness  goes,  each  must  confess  in  the 


54  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

evening,  "  I  have  lost  a  day."  They  sat  opposite  to  each 
other  at  lunch  and  dinner,  reserved  and  silent.  Like 
sensitive  plants,  they  were  afraid  of  being  touched.  The 
domestic  atmosphere  was  darkened.  The  children  did  not 
enjoy  their  play,  and  stopped  occasionally  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  Nor  did  anything  escape  the  notice  of  the 
servants,  who  have  a  fine  tale  to  tell  about  the  "awful  temper 
of  master  and  missis." 

It  has  been  remarked  that  there  are  six  "  ifs,"  by  any  of 
which  a  stranger  may  know  a  man  and  woman  to  be  husband 
and  wife.  These  rules,  it  is  said,  are  infallible  in  just  inter- 
pretation. They  may  be  resorted  to  with  confidence,  as  they 
are  deduced  from  every-day  experience. 

1.  If  you  see  a  gentleman  and  a  lady  disagree  upon  trifling 
occasions,  or  correcting  each  other  in  company,  you  may  be 
assured  they  have  tied  the  matrimonial  noose. 

2.  If  you  see  a  silent  pair  in  a  hackney  or  any  other  coach, 
lolling  carelessly  one  at  each  window,  without  seeming  to 
know  they  have  a  companion,  the  sign  is  infallible. 

3.  If  you  see  a  lady  drop  her  glove,  and  a  gentleman  by 
the  side  of  her  kindly  telling  her  to  pick  it  up,  you  need  not 
hesitate  in  forming  your  opinion ;  or, 

4.  If  you  see  a  lady  presenting  a  gentleman  with  anything 
carelessly,  her  head  inclined  another  way,  and  speaking  to 
him  with  indifference  ;  or, 

5.  If  you  meet  a  couple  in  the  fields,  the  gentleman  twenty 
yards  in  advance  of  the  lady,  who  perhaps  is  getting  over  a 
stile  with  difficulty,  or  picking  her  way  through  a  muddy 
path;  or, 


MATRIMONIAL  MANNERS.  55 

6.  If  you  see  a  gentleman  particularly  courteous,  obliging, 
and  good-natured,  relaxing  into  smiles,  saying  smart  things 
to  every  pretty  woman  in  the  room,  excepting  one,  to  whom 
he  appears  particularly  reserved,  cold,  and  formal,  and  is 
unreasonably  cross — who  that  one  is,  nobody  can  be  at  a 
loss  to  discover. 

If  we  would  be  happy  in  married  life,  we  must  reverse 
such  notes  of  "  barbarous  dissonance." 

When  an  exhortation  is  given  after  the  wedding  ceremony, 
it  would  be  well  if  the  clergyman  were  sometimes  to  take  for 
his  text,  *'  Be  courteous."  If  he  be  an  observing  man  he 
will  know  that  more  coldness  and  estrangements,  if  not 
absolute  quarrels  and  separations,  grow  out  of  a  disregard  of 
the  common  rules  of  courtesy  in  married  life,  than  from 
almost  any  other  cause.  The  wife  gets  up  and  goes  off  to 
give  a  direction  to  her  servants  while  her  husband  is  in  the 
middle  of  a  sentence ;  if  he  were  any  other  gentleman  she 
would  at  least  say,  "  Excuse  me  for  a  moment."  The  wife 
comes  into  the  room,  and  the  husband  sits  still  in  his  chair ; 
if  any  other  lady  enters  he  rises  and  offers  her  one.  If  a 
guest  is  coming  to  the  house,  the  lady  of  the  house  is  dressed 
and  at  the  door  ready  to  receive  him ;  if  it  is  only  her 
husband,  she  has  no  welcome.  If  a  lady  is  at  table  as  a 
guest,  the  gentleman  brings  some  topic  of  social  conversation 
to  entertain  her ;  if  the  wife  is  the  only  lady,  he  sits  silent, 
or  may  even  take  a  letter  or  a  newspaper  out  of  his  pocket 
and  read  it  to  himself. 

How  many  divorces  would  be  avoided  if  the  advice  of 
Governor  Trumbull  were  taken,  who,  when  a  friend  applied 


56  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

to  him  for  advice  about  a  divorce,  asked,  "  How  did  you 
treat  your  wife  when  you  were  courting  her?"  "Why,  I 
treated  her  as  well  as  I  could,  for  I  loved  her  dearly." 
"  Well,"  said  the  governor,  "  go  home  and  court  her  as 
you  did  then  for  a  year,  and  come  and  tell  me  the  result." 
At  the  year's  end  it  was,  "  My  wife  and  I  are  as  happy 
as  when  we  first  married,  and  I  mean  to  court  her  all  the 
days  of  my  life." 

Men  are  cautioned  by  the  Jewish  Talmud  to  be  careful 
lest  they  cause  women  to  weep,  for  "  God  counts  their 
tears."  Of  course  women  may  use  their  tears  in  an  im- 
proper, cowardly  manner  to  induce  men  to  walk  aside  from 
'the  path  of  duty ;  and  there  are  those  who  have  recourse 
to  melting  moods  to  gain  a  mastery  over  good-natured, 
weak-minded  husbands.  They  have  waterworks  in  their 
heads,  and  can  turn  the  tap  on  when  they  like.  But  we 
have  not  been  referring  to  selfish  sighs,  and  made-to-order 
woe  of  this  kind,  which  need  not,  and  ought  not  to  be 
regarded.  If  these  crocodile-tears  are  counted  by  God,  we 
may  be  sure  that  they  count  against  the  woman  who  can  so 
far  abuse  her  "  irresistible  might  of  weakness." 

Husbands  who  are  gentlemen  in  feeling  will  recognize 
the  necessity  of  obeying  some  such  maxims  as  the  following, 
which  also,  by  implication,  suggest  a  code  of  manners  for 
the  wife  who  desires  to  be  a  lady  in  her  home  as  well  as 
abroad.  Do  not  jest  with  your  wife  upon  a  subject  in  which 
there  is  danger  of  wounding  her  feelings.  Do  not  speak  of 
great  virtues  in  another  man's  wife  to  remind  your  own  of 
a  fault.  Do  not  treat  your  wife  with  inattention  in  company, 


MATRIMONIAL  MANNERS.  57 

or  upbraid  her  in  the  presence  of  a  third  party.  Do  not 
entertain  your  wife  by  praising  the  beauty  and  accomplish- 
ments of  other  women.  If  you  would  have  a  pleasant  home 
and  a  cheerful  wife,  pass  your  evenings  under  your  own 
roof.  Do  not  be  stern  and  silent  in  your  own  house,  and 
remarkable  for  sociability  elsewhere. 

He  is  the  wisest  head  of  a  house  who  rules  without  being 
felt  to  rule.  He  must  not  be  weak,  for  that  means  misery 
to  all  concerned,  but  his  firmness  should  work  by  love,  and 
be  only  used  for  good  purposes.  And  this  sort  of  govern- 
ment, by  persuasion  rather  than  by  force,  is  not  only  most 
constitutional,  but  the  best  policy.  In  reference  to  the 
management  of  women,  one  of  Shakespeare's  heroines 
suggests  the  easiest  and  most  successful  method. 

"  You  may  ride  us 

With  one  soft  kiss  a  thousand  furlongs,  ere 
With  spur  we  heat  an  acre." 

A  woman,  it  has  been  said,  is  like  tar — only  melt  her, 
and  she  will  take  any  form  you  please.  We  know,  of  course, 
that  there  never  was  a  wife  of  a  waspish  disposition ;  but 
if  ever  such  a  phenomenon  should  appear,  let  her  husband 
remember  that  "  more  wasps  are  caught  by  honey  than  by 
vinegar." 

A  husband  said  to  his  wife,  "  Now,  wife,  you  know  I  am 
at  the  head  of  the  house."  "Well,"  said  she,  "you  can  be 
at  the  head  if  you  wish  ;  I  am  the  neck."  "  Yes,"  he  said, 
v  "  you  shall  be  the  neck."  "  But,  don't  you  know,"  said  she, 
"  the  neck  turns  the  head  ?  "  It  is  amusing  to  hear  some 
men  boast  of  their  government  at  home.  One  of  this  class 


58  "  MA NNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

in  the  absence  of  his  wife  invited  some  gentlemen  friends  to 
spend  an  evening  with  him.  The  conversation  turned  on 
the  marriage  relation,  when  the  host  boasted,  "  I  am  master 
in  my  house.  I  do  not  believe  in  woman's  ruling — I  do  as 
I  please,  and  I  make  my  wife  submit  to  my  rule — I  am  a 
regular  Julius  Caesar  in  my  house."  Just  then  the  wife 
came  in,  and  said,  "  Gentlemen,  you  had  better  go  home, 
and  Julius  Caesar  will  just  walk  right  upstairs  along  with 
me."  Was  not  this  man  right  to  submit  to  his  wife's  rule 
when  she  was  ordering  what  was  really  best  for  him  ? 

A  bankrupt  merchant  returned  home  one  night  and  said 
to  his  wife,  "  My  dear,  I  am  ruined ;  everything  we  have  is 
in  the  hands  of  the  sheriff."  After  a  few  moments  of  silence, 
his  noble  wife,  looking  him  calmly  in  the  face,  said,  "  Will 
the  sheriff  sell  you?"  "No."  "Will  he  sell  me?" 
"No."  "  Then  don't  say  we  have  lost  everything.  All  that 
is  most  profitable  to  us,  manhood,  womanhood,  remains; 
we  have  but  lost  the  result  of  our  skill  and  industry ;  we 
may  make  another  fortune  if  our  hearts  and  hands  are  left 
to  us."  If  men  and  women  would  take  as  much  pains  to 
hold  each  other  as  they  do  to  catch  each  other,  there  would 
be  fewer  unhappy  marriages. 

'*  And  if  the  husband  or  the  wife 

In  home's  strong  light  discovers 
Such  slight  defaults  as  failed  to  meet 
The  blinded  eyes  of  lovers, 

Why  need  we  care  to  ask  ?  —who  dreams 

Without  their  thorns  of  roses, 
Or  wonders  that  the  truest  steel 

The  readiest  spark  discloses  ? 


MATRIMONIAL  MANAERS.  59 

For  still  in  mutual  sufferance  lies 

The  secret  of  true  living  : 
Love  scarce  is  love  that  never  knows 

The  sweetness  of  forgiving. " 

"  I  have  heard,"  says  Matthew  Henry,  "  of  a  married 
couple  who,  though  they  were  both  of  a  hasty  temper,  yet 
lived  comfortably  together,  by  simply  observing  a  rule  on 
which  they  had  mutually  agreed — never  to  be  both  angry 
with  each  other."  And  he  adds  that  an  ingenious  and 
pious  father  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  this  advice  to  his 
children  when  they  married  : 

"  Doth  one  speak  fire,  t'other  with  water  come  ; 
Is  one  provoked,  be  t'other  soft  and  dumb." 

The  wife  of  a  politician,  who  has  an  eye  for  the  main 
chance,  keeps  a  scrapbook  of  all  the  uncomplimentary 
things  printed  about  her  husband,  which  she  is  to  index 
for  ready  reference  in  seasons  of  domestic  unpleasantness. 
This  lady  deserves  domestic  happiness  about  as  much  as 
another  of  whom  her  husband  said,  "I  should  have  no 
«  objection  to  my  wife's  having  the  last  word  if  I  could  only 
be  assured  that  it  would  be  the  last." 

When  one  of  the  married  pair  is  angry  the  other  is 
cautioned  by  Jeremy  Taylor  "to  subtract  fuel  from  the 
sudden  flame ;  for  stubble,  though  it  be  quickly  kindled, 
yet  it  is  as  soon  extinguished,  if  it  be  not  blown  by  a  per- 
tinacious breath,  or  fed  with  new  materials.  Let  them  be 
sure  to  abstain  from  all  those  things  which  by  experience 
and  observation  they  find  to  be  contrary  to  each  other. 
They  that  govern  elephants  never  appear  before  them  in 


60  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

white,  and  the  masters  of  bulls  keep  from  them  all  garments 
of  blood  and  scarlet,  as  knowing  that  they  will  be  impatient 
of  civil  usages  and  discipline  when  their  natures  are  pro- 
voked by  their  proper  antipathies.  The  ancients  in  their 
marital  hieroglyphics  used  to  depict  Mercury  standing  by 
Venus,  to  signify,  that  by  fair  language  and  sweet  entreaties, 
the  minds  of  each  other  should  be  united  :  and  hard  by 
them  they  would  have  all  deliciousness  of  manners,  com- 
pliance, and  mutual  observance  to  abide." 

If  any  more  of  the  author's  remarks  on  "  Politeness  at 
Home "  are  wanted  (which  is  not  likely  to  be  the  case), 
they  will  be  found  in  the  chapter  of  "  How  to  be  Happy 
though  Married,"  which  treats  of  that  subject. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


A    HUSBAND-AND-WIFE    MUTUAL    IMPROVEMENT   SOCIETY. 


"  But  am  I  not  the  nobler  through  thy  love  ? 
Oh,  three  times  less  unworthy  !  likewise  thou 
Art  more  through  Love,  and  greater." — Tennyson* 

I  HE  fact  that  a  husband  and  wife  have  chosen 
each  other  implies  that  they  have  established 
a  Mutual  Admiration  Society;  but  ought 
they  not  also  to  form  a  Mutual  Improvement 
Society?  Certainly  no  example  is  more 
powerful  than  that  of  him  or  her  whose  bundle  of  life  is 
bound  with  our  own.  How  husbands  and  wives  can  help 
or  hinder  each  other  in  their  warfare  against  evil ! 

Margaret  Charlton,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of 
Baxter,  attended  his  preaching  at  first  only  to  please  her 
mother,  but  was  soon  attracted  by  his  simplicity,  earnestness, 
and  eloquence.  The  pastoral  care  of  Baxter  produced  an 
effect  in  Margaret  of  which  she  at  first  had  no  idea,  and  he 


62  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

no  thought.  "Respect  for  his  character,  reverence  for 
him  as  her  spiritual  teacher,  admiration  of  his  abilities,  and 
not  least,  gratitude  for  his  thoughtful  and  tender  ministries 
to  her  in  trouble,  produced  a  feeling  of  another  kind.  A 
personal  love  was  kindled  in  her  breast.  At  first  it  lay  hid 
within  her  heart ;  but  it  gradually  gained  possession  of  her, 
so  that  her  health  suffered  severely.  Baxter,  unlike  most 
men  in  similar  circumstances,  had  seen  nothing  to  awaken 
his  suspicions.  He  was  taken  entirely  by  surprise,  therefore, 
when  one  day  a  lady  friend  of  Margaret's  sought  an  interview 
with  him  and  made  known  the  secret. 

"  Baxter  was  more  than  double  Margaret's  age,  and  he 
had  both  spoken  and  written  strongly  in  recommendation  of 
single  life  for  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  in  that  age  of 
frequent  persecution.  What  would  his  brethren  say  ?  What 
would  the  world  say  ?  His  answer  was,  '  That  since  he  had 
passed  his  youth  in  celibacy,  it  would  be  reputed  madness 
in  him  to  marry  a  young  woman.' 

"  He  little  thought  that  Margaret  was  at  the  door  listening 
for  his  reply.  She  could  not  take  a  denial,  so,  entering  the 
room,  she  made  her  own  appeal.  'Dear  Mr.  Baxter,  I 
protest  with  a  sincere  and  real  heart,  I  do  not  make  a  tender 
of  myself  to  you  upon  any  worldly  account,  but  to  have  a 
more  frequent  converse  with  so  holy  and  prudent  a  yoke- 
fellow, to  assist  me  in  my  way  to  heaven,  and  to  keep  me 
steadfast  in  my  perseverance,  which  I  design  for  God's 
glory  and  my  own  soul's  good.' " 

What  could  he  say  after  that  ?  The  appeal  was  irresistible. 
He  did  the  only  thing  he  could  do,  and  it  turned  out  the 


A  MUTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  SOCIETY.          63 

best  thing— he  surrendered.  If  husbands  would  give  honour 
unto  their  wives,  many  might  say  as  Steele  said  of  Lady 
Elizabeth  Hastings,  that  "  to  have  loved  her  was  a  liberal 
education." 

In  the  correspondence  of  Edward  Irving,  who  was  almost 
the  greatest  genius  of  the  Scottish  Church,  there  is  a  touching 
and  elevating  letter  to  his  wife,  which  young  married  people 
might  read  together  with  profit  by  the  quiet  fireside  of  their 
dear  first  home  : — 

"  Oh,  Isabella,  I  have  a  strong  persuasion  of  the  power  of 
a  holy  will  and  conversation,  in  which,  if  we  continue,  we 
shall  save  not  only  our  own  souls,  but  the  souls  of  them  that 
hear  us.  My  dearest,  we  must  soon  go  to  our  rest,  and  our 
sweet  infant  also;  and  perhaps  the  Lord  may  not  see  us  worthy 
to  leave  any  seed  on  the  earth.  His  will  be  done.  Now 
rest  in  peace,  my  other  part,  and  thou,  sweet  link  of  being 
betwixt  us.  Every  twelfth  day  of  the  month,  my  loving  and 
beloved  wife,  let  it  be  your  first  thought  and  your  last 
thought,  that  your  babe  is  mortal,  and  that  the  father  of 
your  babe  is  mortal,  and  that  you  yourself  are  mortal.  Do 
this  that  you  may  swallow  up  our  mortality  in  the  glorious 
faith  of  our  immortality  in  the  heavens." 

If  a  generous- hearted  husband  has  to  speak  to  his  wife 
about  her  faults,  he  does  it  tenderly,  humbly,  unwillingly, 
sadly,  yet  with  sufficient  plainness  not  to  have  to  do  it  twice 
over.  In  paining  her  he  wounds  his  own  flesh.  The  pain 
is  necessary,  but  the  hand  of  love  so  inflicts  it  that  it  quickly 
heals. 

And  here  we  may  drop  the  hint  that  a  Christian  husband 


64  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

or  wife  influences  not  so  much  by  direct  exhortation,  as  by 
consistent  example.  When  Lord  Peterborough  had  lodged 
for  some  time  with  Fenelon,  referring  to  his  example,  he 
said  at  parting,  "I  shall  become  a  Christian  in  spite  of 
myself."  In  the  same  way,  when  one  of  a  married  pair  is 
a  sincere  Christian,  the  other  may  not  be  able  to  escape 
becoming  the  same. 

It  is  breathing  a  healthy  atmosphere  that  chiefly  promotes 
health,  rather  than  constantly  doing  small  things  supposed 
to  be  healthful.  So  the  gentle,  self-controlled  life,  full  of 
unconscious  goodness,  not  too  much  up  in  the  clouds  to  be 
ignorant  of  its  own  shortcomings,  nor  too  proud  frankly  to 
acknowledge  them,  brings  the  force  of  Christian  character 
to  bear  with  a  continuous  and  irresistible  influence  on  the 
two  wedded  souls.  Not  long  ago  I  heard  a  woman  say  of 
her  husband,  whose  habit  of  fault-finding  continually  pro- 
voked her  anger,  that  he  was  like  the  flaming  sword  which 
prevented  Adam  and  Eve  from  entering  Paradise.  How 
sad  it  is  when  a  husband  and  wife,  instead  of  helping  each 
other,  become  stumbling-blocks,  and  forget  that  they  are  in 
great  part  responsible  for  each  other's  soul !  St.  Peter  tells 
husbands  to  dwell  with  their  wives  "  as  being  heirs  together 
of  the  grace  of  life ;  that  your  prayers  be  not  hindered.' 
Let  married  people  pray  that  they  may  continue  to  love 
each  other,  and  let  them  love  that  they  may  be  able  to  pray 
for  each  other. 

After  Philip  Henry — who  came  to  Worthenbury  a  stranger 
— had  been  in  the  country  for  some  time,  his  attachment  to 
Miss  Matthews,  afterwards  his  wife,  became  known  to  her 


A  MUTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  SOCIETY.          65 

friends.  Among  the  other  objections  they  urged  to  the 
connection  was  this — that  although  Mr.  Henry  was  a  gentle- 
man, and  a  scholar,  and  an  excellent  preacher,  he  was  quite  a 
stranger,  and  they  did  not  even  know  where  he  came  from. 
"  True,"  replied  Miss  Matthews,  "  but  I  know  where  he  is 
going,  and  I  should  like  to  go  with  him."  The  husband  and 
wife  who  truly  love  will  scarcely  be  able  to  rest  until  they 
know  each  other  to  be  on  the  road  that  leads  to  heaven. 
How  often  married  people  must  see  in  each  other,  not 
without  anxiety  and  a  personal  responsibility,  some  fault 
hardening,  some  good  habit  growing  weaker.  What  better 
way  than  to  speak  of  it  in  prayer  to  God  ?  He  will  make  for 
us  an  opportunity,  and  find  the  word  for  us  to  say  in  season, 
and  with  discretion.  It  is  every  one's  duty  to  do  all  he  can 
to  prevent  and  diminish  sin  in  his  neighbour.  If  a  good 
man  studies  to  do  this  greatest  kindness  even  for  a  stranger, 
surely  a  good  husband  and  wife  will  earnestly  strive  to  do  it 
for  each  other.  This  is  what  might  be  expected,  but  in 
practice  it  is  seldom  done,  for  too  many  married  people  live 
in  a  circle  of  ideas  most  of  which  are  "  pagan,  I  regret  to 
say."  They  do  not  realize  the  importance  of  true  religion  in 
making  married  life  happy.  If  any  one  doubt  that  it  is  a 
matter  of  such  importance,  let  him  reflect  upon  the  following 
testimony  of  Bishop  Burnet :  "  By  living  according  to  the 
rules  of  religion  a  man  becomes  the  wisest,  the  best,  and 
the  happiest  creature  that  he  is  capable  of  being.  Honesty, 
industry,  the  employing  of  time  well,  a  constant  sobriety,  an 
undefiled  purity,  with  continued  serenity,  are  the  best  pre- 
servatives, too,  of  life  and  health ;  so  that,  take  a  man  as  an 

5 


66  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

individual,  religion  is  his  guard,  his  perfection,  his  beauty, 
and  his  glory.     This  will  make  him  a  light  in  the  world, 
shining  brightly  and  enlightening  many  round  about  him." 
i      It  is   impossible  to  exaggerate  the   influence   for  good 
which  a  wife  may  exercise  upon  her  husband's  character. 

•    "There  is  no  man  so  full  of  pride, 
*    And  none  so  intimate  with  shame ; 
And  none  to  manhood  so  denied, 
As  not  to  mend  if  women  blame." 

But  the  poet  also  mournfully  adds — 

"  Ah  !  wasteful  woman, 

How  she  has  cheapen'd  Paradise  ; 
How  given  for  naught  her  priceless  gift ; 

How  spoil'd  the  bread  and  spill'd  the  wine, 
Which,  spent  with  due,  respective  thrift, 

Had  made  brutes  men,  and  men  divine.'* 

Men  cannot  be  chivalrous  and  self-denying  if^  women  do 
not  give  them  opportunities.  They  should  give  them  every 
chance  to  cultivate  these  noble  qualities.  Instead  of  this, 
some  fondly  foolish  wives  encourage  their  husbands  in 
rudeness  and  selfishness  by  not  demanding,  and  even 
insisting,  upon  that  attention,  consideration,  and  help 
which  every  woman,  much  more  a  wife,  may  claim  from  a 
man.  Sometimes  it  is  a  woman's  "  highest  pleasure "  to 
bear  all  her  husband's  burdens.  To  secure  this  highest 
pleasure,  she  makes  the  husband  whom  God  has  given  her 
weak,  inefficient,  and  childishly  selfish.  True  conjugal 
happiness  is  found,  not  in  taking  burdens  from  one  to 
cumber  the  other,  but  in  united  efforts — efforts  which  are 
the  best  possible  discipline  of  character. 


A  MUTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  SOCIETY.         67 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  moral  good  of  their  husbands 
occupies  very  little  of  the  attention  of  some  wives.  And 
yet  there  is  no  more  enviable  gift  than  the  energy  to  sway 
others  to  good ;  to  diffuse  around  us  an  atmosphere  of 
cheerfulness,  piety,  truthfulness,  generosity,  magnanimity. 
It  is  not  a  matter  of  great  talent ;  nor  entirely  a  matter  of 
great  energy ;  but  rather  of  earnestness  and  honesty,  and  of 
that  quiet,  constant  energy  which  is  like  soft  rain  gently 
penetrating  the  soil.  It  is  rather  a  grace  than  a  gift ;  and 
we  know  where  all  grace  is  to  be  had  freely  for  the  asking. 

Sir  James  Mackintosh  was  blessed  with  a  wife  who  had 
this  grace.  He  says,  that  by  the  tender  management  of  his 
weaknesses,  she  gradually  corrected  the  most  pernicious  of 
them.  "  She  gently  reclaimed  me  from  dissipation ;  she 
propped  my  weak  and  irresolute  nature;  she  urged  my 
indolence  to  all  the  exertions  that  have  been  useful  or 
creditable  to  me;  and  she  was  perpetually  at  hand  to 
admonish  my  heedlessness  and  improvidence." 

In  a  letter  which  Carlyle  wrote  to  his  "  Goody,"  as  he 
called  his  wife,  when  absent  in  London  on  business,  and 
suffering  under  the  discomfort  of  "  insect-infected  lodgings," 
he  appeals  to  her  thus  :  "  But  oh,  my  dear  Jeannie,  do 
help  me  to  be  a  little  softer,  to  be  a  little  merciful  to  all 
men,  even  gigmen.  Why  should  a  man,  though  bilious, 
never  so  *  nervous,'  impoverished,  bug-bitten,  and  bedevilled, 
let  Satan  have  dominion  over  him  ?  Save  me,  save  me,  my 
Goody  !  It  is  on  this  side  that  I  am  threatened  ;  neverthe- 
less we  will  prevail,  I  tell  thee ;  by  God's  grace  we  will  and 
shall." 


68  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

The  sweet  and  modest  influence  for  good  which  a  wife 
should  seek  to  gain  over  her  husband  will  never  be  reached 
by  sharp,  bitter  words,  or  by  fits  of  sullen  pride,  or  by  the 
assumption  of  masterful  airs,  or  by  dictatorial  lecturing. 
Nothing  is  more  distasteful  and  abhorrent  to  men  than  any 
of  these  things  in  woman ;  nothing  so  quickly  as  any  of 
these  things  will  snatch  all  power  out  of  her  hands.  It  will 
be  won  by  gracious  looks,  by  tender  little  acts  of  love,  by 
soft  persuasive  words,  by  gentle,  hardly  perceptible  leading. 
It  is  often  the  case  that  women  have  deeper  and  softer 
religious  convictions  than  men,  and  it  is  a  glorious  task  for 
a  Christian  wife  to  make  the  life  of  her  husband  more 
spiritual,  more  rich  in  noble  deeds  of  love,  more  near  to 
God  in  his  daily  life,  than  it  was  before  she  entered  his 
house.  Her  husband  should  be  indebted  to  her  for — • 

"  Those  sweet  counsels  between  head  and  heart, 
Whence  genuine  knowledge  grew." 

He  should  be  able  to  acknowledge  her  service  to  him  in 
the  following  lines : 

"  She  gave  me  eyes,  she  gave  me  ears  ; 
And  humble  cares,  and  delicate  fears  ; 
A  heart,  the  fountain  of  sweet  tears  ; 
And  love,  and  thought,  and  joy." 

But  the  influences  of  marriage  go  beyond  earth,  and  the 
wife  that  best  deserves  the  name  of  an  angel  is  she  who — 

"  Tries  each  art,  reproves  each  dull  delay, 
Allures  to  brighter  worlds,  and  leads  the  way." 

When  business  goes  wrong,  or  a  profession  disappoints, 


A  MUTUAL  IMPROVEMENT  SOCIETY.         69 

or  other  losses  and  crosses  happen,  there  are  men  who 
would  give  up  the  battle  altogether  and  become  utterly 
reckless,  were  it  not  for  the  wife's  influence. 

'*  Oh  !  what  were  Man  in  dark  misfortune's  hour 
Without  her  cherishing  aid  ? — a  nerveless  thing, 

Sinking  ignobly  'neath  the  passing  power 
Of  every  blast  of  Fortune.     She  can  bring 

'A  balm  for  every  wound.'    As  when  the  shower 
More  heavily  falls,  the  bird  of  eve  will  sing 

In  richer  notes ;  sweeter  is  woman's  voice 

When  through  the  storm  it  bids  the  soul  rejoice." 

In  his  "  Crown  of  Wild  Olive,"  Mr.  Ruskin  thus  speaks 
to  wives,  mothers,  and  maidens :  "  Believe  me,  the  whole 
course  and  character  of  your  lovers'  lives  may  be  in  your 
hands ;  what  you  would  have  them  be,  they  shall  be,  if  you 
not  only  desire  to  have  them  so,  but  deserve  to  have  them 
so ;  for  they  are  often  mirrors  in  which  you  will  see  your- 
selves imaged.  If  you  are  frivolous,  they  will  be  so  also ; 
if  you  have  no  understanding  of  the  scope  of  their  duty, 
they  also  will  forget  it ;  they  will  listen  to  the  interpretation 
of  it  as  uttered  from  your  lips,  such  and  so  absolute  is 
your  rule  over  them.  You  fancy,  perhaps,  as  you  have  been 
told  so  often,  that  a  wife's  rule  should  only  be  over  her 
husband's  house,  not  over  his  mind.  Ah,  no  !  the  true  rule 
is  just  the  reverse  of  that :  a  true  wife,  in  her  husband's 
house,  is  his  servant ;  it  is  in  his  heart  that  she  is  queen. 
Whatever  of  best  he  can  conceive,  it  is  her  part  to  be; 
whatever  of  highest  he  can  hope,  it  is  hers  to  promise ;  all 
that  is  dark  in  hirr  she  must  purge  into  purity ;  all  that  is 
failing  in  him  she  must  strengthen  into  truth;  from  her, 


70  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

through  the  world's  clamour,  he  must  win  his  praise ;  in 
her,  through  all  the  world's  warfare,  he  must  find  his  peace." 
For  the  sake  of  each  other,  husband  and  wife  should  try 
to  acquire  the  inestimable  art  of  making  duty  seem  pleasant, 
and  even  disappointment  not  so  blank  and  crushing.  They 
should  be  to  each  other  like  a  bracing,  crisp,  frosty  atmo- 
sphere, without  a  suspicion  of  the  element  that  chills  and 
pinches. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY!" 

"  How,  my  girls  !  Is  your  heart  so  little  worth  that  you  cut  it,  like 
old  clothes,  after  any  fashion,  to  fit  any  breast ;  and  does  it  wax  or 
shrink,  then,  like  a  Chinese  ball,  to  fit  itself  into  the  ball-mould  and 
marriage-ring  case  of  any  male  heart  whatever  ?  '  Well,  it  must ;  unless 
we  would  sit  at  home,  and  grow  Old  Maids,'  answer  they  ;  whom  I  will 
not  answer,  but  turn  scornfully  away  from  them,  to  address  that  same 
Old  Maid  in  these  words  :  '  Forsaken,  but  patient  one  ;  misknown  and 
mistreated  !  Think  not  of  the  times  when  thou  hadst  hope  of  better 
than  the  present  are,  and  repent  the  noble  pride  of  thy  heart  never  !  It 
is  not  always  our  duty  to  marry,  but  it  always  is  our  duty  to  abide  by 
right,  not  to  purchase  happiness  by  loss  of  honour,  not  to  avoid  uriwed- 
dedness  by  untruthfulness.'" — Richter. 

"  A  great  many  difficulties  arise  from  falling  in  love  with  the  wrong 
person." — Rttskin. 

IHOSE  who  desire  to  have  their  manners  and 
morals  improved  rather  than  injured  by  the 
the  most  serious  and  important  undertaking 
in  life  must  obey  the  old  precept — "Mind 
whom  you  marry." 
It  is  useless  to  expect  young  people  to  choose  their  life- 


72  « MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

partners  according  to  rule  and  reason.  "  Tell  me  where  is 
Fancy  bred  ?  "  asked  Shakespeare  in  the  sweet  little  song — 

"  Tell  me  where  is  Fancy  bred, 
Or  in  the  heart,  or  in  the  head  ? 
How  begot,  how  nourished? 

Reply,  reply. 

It  is  engender'd  in  the  eyes, 
With  gazing  fed  ;  and  Fancy  dies 
In  the  cradle  where  it  lies  ; 
Let  us  all  ring  Fancy's  knell ; 
I'll  begin  it,— Ding,  dong,  bell." 

This  fancy  or  love  between  two  young  people  may  be 
bred  from  the  merest  trifles — from  a  sympathetic  word  or 
look,  from  a  song,  from  a  lonely  walk,  from  mere  propin- 
quity, and  as  often  as  not  from  a  hint  from  a  match-maker — 

"  For  man  is  fire,  and  woman  is  tow, 
And  the  Somebody  comes,  and  begins  to  blow." 

And  then  friends  nod  their  heads  and  say,  very  wisely  or 
very  foolishly,  as  the  case  may  be,  "  Alas  !  alas  !  I  see  thou 
art  in  love." 

All  this  is  true ;  nevertheless,  there  are  a  few  general  hints 
which  may  be  suggested  to  those  who  have  not  quite  lost 
their  heads  in  love.  First  of  all  it  is  unwise  to  choose  for 
beauty  alone.  "  It  is,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  an  ill  bond  of 
affections  to  tie  two  hearts  together  by  a  little  thread  of  red 
and  white.  And  they  can  live  no  longer  but  until  the  next 
ague  comes,  and  they  are  fond  of  each  other,  but  at  the 
change  of  fancy,  or  the  small-pox,  or  child-bearing,  or  care, 
or  time,  or  anything  that  can  destroy  a  pretty  flower."  After 


"MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY.'"  73 

the  first  year,  married  people  rarely  think  of  each  other's 
features,  and  whether  they  be  classically  beautiful  or  other- 
wise. But  they  never  fail  to  be  cognisant  of  each  other's 
temper.  "  When  I  see  a  man,"  says  Addison,  "  with  a  sour, 
rivelled  face,  I  cannot  forbear  pitying  his  wife ;  and  when  I 
meet  with  an  open,  ingenuous  countenance,  I  think  of  the 

.     happiness  of  his  friends,  his  family,  and  his  relations." 

Do  not  marry  a  wife  "too  costly  to  wear  every  day,"  and 
beware  of  girls  who  are  much  talked  of,  for  notoriety  may 
make  them  conceited,  extravagant,  and  fond  of  staying  away 
from  home.  Neither  ought  you  to  be  ambitious  of  possess- 
ing what  Charles  Lamb  called  a  furniture  wife.  "  Men 
marry  for  fortune,  and  sometimes  to  please  their  fancy ;  but 
much  oftener  than  is  suspected,  they  consider  what  the  world 
will  say  of  it ;  how  such  a  woman  in  their  friends'  eyes  will 
look  at  the  head  of  a  table.  Hence  we  see  so  many  insipid 
beauties  made  wives  of,  that  could  not  have  struck  the  par- 
ticular fancy  of  any  man  that  had  any  fancy  at  all ;  as  many 
buy  furniture,  and  pictures,  because  they  suit  this  or  that 

v  niche  in  their  dining  parlours.  These  I  cs&\  furniture  wives. 
Your  universally  cried-up  beauties  are  the  very  last  choice 
which  a  man  of  taste  would  make.  What  pleases  all  cannot 
have  that  individual  charm  which  makes  this  or  that  coun- 
tenance engaging  to  you,  and  to  you  only — perhaps  you  know 
not  why."  It  is  well  there  are  differences  of  opinion  as  to 
suitability  and  compatibility.  A  man  once  said,  "  Now  if 
everybody  had  been  of  my  opinion,  they  would  all  have 
wanted  my  old  woman ; "  another  said,  "  If  everybody  had 
"  been  of  my  opinion,  nobody  would  have  had  her." 


74  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

Good  health  is  too  important  a  matter  to  be  overlooked  in 
choosing  a  partner  for  life.  Health  is  next  to  piety  in  the 
scale  of  blessings.  It  is  more  than  fortune.  Fortunes  have 
been  wasted  in  vain  to  supply  it.  Do  not  seek  to  have  a 
continuous  doctor's  bill  rolled  up  in  your  marriage  settlement 

Some  diseases  are  hereditary.  Deliberately  to  marry  where 
such  diseases  are  known  to  exist,  is  worse  than  folly.  It 
is  to  help  to  spread  an  evil  among  mankind,  to  transmit  a 
calamity  and  a  scourge  to  future  generations.  Many  children 
have  been  a  plague  to  themselves  and  a  burden  to  their 
parents  and  society  during  the  whole  course  of  their  lives 
in  consequence  of  this  imprudence. 

Domestic  habits  belong  to  the  class  of  essentials.  Some 
women  seem  happiest  when  they  are  gadding  about  from 
house  to  house,  and  jaunting  from  one  locality  to  another. 
Forest  rangers  are  very  well  in  their  way,  but  do  not  marry  a 
ranger,  as  you  would  avoid  perpetual  motion.  It  is  but  little 
in  domestic  management  and  supervision  that  can  be  done 
by  proxy  j  and  when  the  wife  is  frequently  abroad,  things  are 
sure  to  go  wrong  at  home.  A  wife  can  have  very  little  regard 
for  her  husband's  purse  who  trusts  servants  with  the  exclu- 
sive management  of  all  her  household  affairs.  Recreation 
after  work  and  to  assist  work  is  most  useful  and  even 
necessary,  but  that  husband  is  miserable  indeed  whose  wife 
lives  a  life  of  mere  pleasure. 

Extravagance  is  as  injurious  as  excessive  visiting.  Under 
its  baneful  influence  the  amplest  fortune  must  disappear,  as 
snow  melts  under  the  influence  of  the  sun.  You  may  not 
always  be  able  to  lay  your  hand  on  the  particular  extravagance 


"MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY /"  75 

by  which  your  property  is  being  wasted,  but  you  will  feel  that 
it  is  not  the  less  really  diminishing,  because  the  particular 
form  of  its  decrease  is  almost  imperceptible. 

It  does  not  always  pay  to  marry  a  rich  wife.  The  girl  who 
brings  to  her  husband  a  large  dowry  may  also  bring  habits 
of  luxury  learned  in  a  rich  home.  "  When  men  and  women 
change  their  liberty  for  a  rich  fortune  they  show  themselves 
to  be  less  than  money  by  overvaluing  that  to  all  the  content 
and  wise  felicity  of  their  lives ;  and  when  they  have  counted 
the  money  and  their  sorrows  together,  how  willingly  would 
they  buy,  with  the  loss  of  all  that  money,  modesty  or  sweet 
nature;  the  odd  thousand  pounds  would  gladly  be  allowed 
in  good-nature  and  fair  manners.'* 

Dress  is  one  of  the  little  things  that  indicate  character. 

The  selection  of  clothes  and  the  manner  of  putting  them 
on  are  no  bad  foundations  for  a  judgment.  All  women  are 
good — either  for  something  or  for  nothing — and  their  dress 
will  generally  tell  you  which.  A  refined  woman  does  not 
bedizen  and  bedeck  herself  with  a  view  to  display.  When 
speaking  to  her,  one  does  not  think  of  her  dress.  It  is  so 
much  a  part  of  herself  that  it  makes  no  distinct  impression. 
Being  in  harmony  with  her  whole  appearance,  it  does  not 
attract  notice. 

Refinement  in  dress  is  generally  associated  with  refinement 
in  manners.  The  innate  sensitive  feeling  which  rejects  the 
unbecoming  in  the  one  will  be  quick  to  avoid  it  in  the  other. 
It  will  regulate  dress  and  carriage,  spirit  and  speech. 

It  was  the  opinion  of  Pope  that  "  most  women  have  no 
characters  at  all ; "  and  again  he  says — 


76  "  MANNERS  MAKY  TH  MAN." 

"  Ladies,  like  variegated  tulips,  show  : 
'Tis  to  their  changes  half  their  charms  we  owe, 
Fine  by  defect  and  delicately  weak." 

We  believe  this  sentiment  to  be  utterly  false.  A  weak  and 
foolish  woman  is  miserable  herself,  and  the  cause  of  misery 
to  every  one  connected  with  her. 

Some  men  do  not  marry  because  they  expect  too  much  in 
a  wife.  "  Why  don't  you  marry  ?  "  l(  Well,  you  see,  I  am 

,  very  particular  who  my  intended  should  be "  "  Explain 

yourself."  "  My  wife  must  be  rich,  handsome,  and  stupid." 
"  Why  all  that  ?  "  "  Very  simpla  She  must  be  rich  and 
handsome,  otherwise  I  would  not  have  her ;  and  she  must 
\be  stupid,  otherwise  she  would  not  have  me." 

A  man  who  will  marry  nothing  less  than  perfection  must 
necessarily  remain  unmarried.  He  is  "a  sour  grape  hanging 
by  the  twig  of  obstinacy  on  a  wall  of  great  expectations ; " 
and  the  only  thing  to  be  said  in  his  favour  is,  that  he  has 
not  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  making  a  woman 
miserable.  But  what  can  we  say  or  think  of  the  folly  and 
foolhardiness  of  him  who,  so  far  from  seeking  perfection  in 
the  woman  he  marries,  altogether  ignores  the  assurance  of 
the  son  of  Sirach,  that  "there  is  no  wickedness  like  the 
wickedness  of  a  woman  "  ?  On  the  other  hand — 

"  How  blest  is  he  whose  arms  enfold 

A  consort  virtuous  as  fair, 
Her  price  is  far  above  the  gold 

That  worldly  spirits  love  to  share  J 
On  her,  as  on  a  beauteous  isle 

Amid  life's  dark  and  stormy  sea» 
In  all  his  trouble,  all  his  toil, 

He  rests  with  deep  security." 


"MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY!"  77 

"  Is  it  possible,  young  lady,  that  you  do  not  know  the 
names  of  your  best  friends  ?  "  "  Possible  ?  Why,  of  course  it 
is.  I  do  not  even  know  what  my  name  may  be  a  year  or  so 
hence."  A  girl  may  not  know  the  name  of  the  man  she  will 
marry,  but  she  should  make  up  her  mind  that  whoever  he 
be  he  must  have  a  good  character.  We  would  not  insult 
feminine  intellects  by  suggesting  so  obvious  a  truth,  as  that 
they  should  seek  for  a  perfectly  "  steady  "  husband,  were  it 
not  that  some  women  are  accused  of  liking  rakes,  and  others 
fancy  that  whatever  a  man  may  be  before  marriage,  he  is 
sure  to  reform  after  it.  If  there  are  women  so  careless  of 
their  happiness  as  to  like  in  men  qualities  that  are  sure  to 
make  them  wretched,  captivated  by  money,  position,  a  hand- 
some face,  or  anything  else,  all  that  can  be  said  of  them  is 
that  they  are  true  daughters  of  Eve,  who  "  knew  not  eating 
death."  People's  characters  seldom  change  after  thirty 
years  of  age,  and,  as  a  rule,  a  bad  man  before  marriage  will 
be  a  bad  man  after  it.  For  the  same  reason  we  think  that 
a  girl  ought  not  to  marry  in  a  sort  of  missionary  spirit, 
hoping  to  convert  a  lover,  who  is  "  rather  wild,"  from  the 
error  of  his  ways.  The  poor-houses  are  full  of  women  who 
thought  they  could  reform  their  husbands. 

To  be  happy  in  marriage,  it  is  necessary  to  marry  a 
gentleman.  What  we  mean  by  the  term  is  expressed  in 
words  taken  from  an  American  periodical. 

"A  true  gentleman  is  generous  and  unselfish.  He  regards 
another's  happiness  and  welfare  as  well  as  his  own.  You 
will  see  the  trait  running  through  all  his  actions.  A  man 
who  is  a  bear  at  home  among  all  his  sisters,  and  discourteous 


78  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

to  his  mother,  is  just  the  man  to  avoid  when  you  come  to 
the  great  question  which  is  to  be  answered  yes  or  no. 

"  A  man  may  be  ever  so  rustic  in  his  early  surroundings, 
but  if  he  is  a  true  gentleman  he  will  not  bring  a  blush  to 
your  cheek  in  any  society  by  his  absurd  behaviour. 

"  There  is  an  instinctive  politeness  inherent  in  such  a 
character  which  everywhere  commands  respect  and  makes 
its  owner  pass  for  what  he  is — one  of  nature's  noblemen. 

"  Do  not  despair,  girls ;  there  are  such  men  still  in  the 
world.  You  need  not  all  die  old  maids.  Wait.  No  harm 
in  a  delay. 

"  You  will  not  be  apt  to  find  him  in  the  ball-room,  and  I 
know  he  will  never  be  seen  walking  up  from  the  liquor- 
saloon.  Nor  is  he  a  champion  billiard-player. 

"He  has  not  had  time  to  become  a  'champion,'  for  he  has 
V  had  too  much  honest,  earnest  work  to  do  in  the  world.  I 
have  always  observed  that  these  *  champions '  were  seldom 
good  for  much  else. 

"Be  very  wary  in  choosing,  girls,  when  so  much  is  at  stake. 
Do  not  mistake  a  passing  fancy  for  undying  love." 

From  the  same  source  we  learn  how  a  Louisville  girl 
disposed  of  a  young  man  who  did  not  come  up  to  this 
standard : 

"  You  have  asked  me  pointedly  if  I  can  marry  you,  and 
I  have  answered  you  pointedly  that  I  can.  I  can  marry  a 
man  who  makes  love  to  a  different  girl  every  month.  I  can 
marry  a  man  whose  main  occupation  seems  to  be  to  join  in 
gauntlet  in  front  of  churches  and  theatres,  and  comment 
audibly  on  the  people  who  are  compelled  to  pass  through  it. 


"MIND  WHOM  YOU  MARRY  r»  79 

I  can  marry  a  man  whose  only  means  of  support  is  an  aged 
father.  I  can  marry  a  man  who  boasts  that  any  girl  can  be 
won  with  the  help  of  a  good  tailor  and  an  expert  tongue. 
I  can  marry  such  a  man,  but  I  w-o-n-t ! " 

A  duck  of  a  man  generally  makes  a  goose  of  a  husband, 
so  it  is  wise  to  choose  a  husband  who  has  sterling  qualities 
of  heart  and  character.  "  Look  not  on  his  countenance,  or 
on  the  height  of  his  stature,"  or  on  any  mere  outward 
appearance  so  much  as  on  that  inner  man  that  will  make  or 
mar  your  happiness  and  character.  "  Are  the  young  ladies 
of  the  present  day  fit  for  wives  ? "  asked  a  lecturer  of  his 
audience.  "They  are  fit  for  husbands,"  responded  a 
feminine  voice ;  "  but  the  difficulty  is  that  you  men  are  not 
fit  for  wives."  The  Rev.  Philip  Henry  used  to  say  to  his 
children,  with  reference  to  their  choice  in  marriage — "  Please 
God  and  please  yourselves,  and  you  shall  never  displease 
me ; "  and  greatly  blamed  those  parents  who  concluded 
matches  for  their  children  without  their  consent.  He  some- 
times mentioned  the  saying  of  a  pious  gentlewoman  who 
had  many  daughters — "  The  care  of  most  people  is  how  to 
get  good  husbands  for  their  daughters ;  but  my  care  is  to  fit 
my  daughters  to  be  good  wives,  and  then  let  God  provide 
for  them."  May  I  refer  to  the  fourth  and  fifth  chapters  of 
my  book,  "  How  to  be  Happy  though  Married,"  where  an 
attempt  has  been  made  to  save  people  from  taking  a  leap 
in  the  dark  ?  What  is  marriage  but  a  leap  in  the  dark, 
when  physical  beauty  is  esteemed  above  spiritual  beauty,  and 
when  external  possessions  are  desired  more  than  internal 
treasures?  When  sensuality,  selfishness,  vanity,  ambition, 


8o  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

are  the  evil  genii  which  bring  the  sexes  together,  what  can 
we  expect  but  discord  and  misery ;  diseases  of  mind  and 
body  ',  broken  vows ;  broken  hearts ;  the  infernal  marriage  of 
the  evil  and  the  false,  and  the  awful  shadows  of  hell  projected 
upon  earth?  That  husbands  and  wives  exercise  special 
transforming  or  modifying  influences  upon  each  other,  is  a 
truth  of  daily  experience  and  of  incalculable  value.  Mind 
whom  you  marry,  for  you  will  never  be  the  same  that  you  were 
before.  You  will  unconsciously  absorb  another  life  into  your 
own,  and  the  two  currents  will  blend  in  your  character  and 
conduct.  If  your  husband  be  a  refined  and  good  man,  he 
will  make  you  refined  and  good  if  of  an  opposite  character — 

..."  Thou  shalt  lower  to  his  level  day  by  day, 
What  is  fine  within  thee  growing  coarse  to  sympathize  with  clay, 
As  the  husband  is,  the  wife  is  j  thou  art  mated  with  a  clown, 
And  the  grossness  of  his  nature  will  have  weight  to  drag  thee  down." 

So  it  is  also  with  the  man.  The  will  of  the  woman 
attaches  itself  to  his  will,  and  endeavours,  with  inconceivable 
subtlety  and  power,  to  make  it  absolutely  one  with  itself. 
Hence  the  purifying,  spiritualizing  influence  of  a  good  and 
noble  woman.  Hence  also  the  fearfully  demoralizing, 
darkening,  and  deadening  power  of  an  evil  woman  over  man. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    MANAGEMENT   OF   A    HUSBAND. 

"  Her  pleasures  are  in  lovers  coy  : 

When  hers,  she  gives  them  not  a  thought, 
But,  like  the  angler,  takes  more  joy 

In  fishing  than  in  fishes  caught." — Brooklyn  Magazine. 

"  Think  not,  the  husband  gained,  that  all  is  done, 
The  prize  of  happiness  must  still  be  won  ; 
And  oft  the  careless  find  it  to  their  cost ; 
The  lover  in  the  husband  may  be  lost ; 
The  graces  might  alone  his  heart  allure ; 
They  arid  the  virtues  meeting  must  secure." 

|AVING  caught  our  hare  we  proceed  to  cook 
it.  Having  married  the  right  sort  of  husband, 
how  should  a  woman  manage  him  ?  The 
first  thing  to  be  settled  is  whether  it  is 
ever  right  for  a  wife  who  has  vowed  to  obey 
her  husband  to  attempt  to  manage  him.  That,  we  should 
say,  depends  upon  the  character  of  the  husband  and  of  the 
wife.  If  a  man  be  weak  and  easily  led,  he  will  be  managed 
by  some  one,  and  if  his  wife  do  not  lead  him  right,  bad 
friends  and  bad  passions  will  lead  him  wrong. 

6 


82  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

What  makes  it  sound  badly  to  speak  of  managing  a  hus- 
band is  the  fact  that  too  many  wives  only  manage  their 
husbands  for  selfish  purposes.  If  their  sole  object  were  to 
make  the  most  of  them  it  would  be  all  right,  but  some- 
times what  they  aim  at  is  to  make  the  most  out  of  them. 
Manoeuvres,  crafty  ways,  wily  little  concealments,  insidious 
liatterings  and  coaxings  with  an  object — these  miserable 
and  not  very  honourable  means  a  good  wife  is  sometimes 
almost  forced  to  use  in  order  to  make  her  bad  husband  do 
his  duty ;  but  they  are  also  used  by  wives  who  have  not  bad 
husbands,  and  who  are  therefore  without  excuse.  Hus- 
bands are  selfish  enough,  but  they  have  not  a  monopoly  in 
this  bad  quality  :  they  share  it  with  their  wives.  "  I  can  do 
what  I  like  with  my  husband,"  said  a  young  wife.  " How?" 
"  When  he  won't  do  what  I  like,  I  just  take  to  bed.  The 
other  day  I  wanted  twenty  pounds,  and  he  would  only  give 
me  ten,  so  I  took  to  bed,  and  that  soon  brought  him  to 
his  senses."  Is  this  the  cause  of  the  prevalency  of  the 
"  sofa  disease  "  amongst  ladies  ? 

Wives  would  manage  their  husbands  better  if  they  did 
not  forget  the  arts  they  used  to  please  them  when  these 
husbands  were  only  their  lovers.  Before  marriage,  a  girl 
speaks  to  her  lover  with  her  eyes;  after  marriage,  with  her 
tongue,  and  in  other  respects  her  manner  is  generally 
'  less  winning. 

It  is,  however,  a  great  mistake  to  yield  up  everything  to 
a  husband's  whims,  and  become  the  humble  slave  of  his 
caprices.  The  woman  who  does  this  without  gaining  more 
of  her  lord's  love  loses  his  respect.  He  becomes  a  bully,  and 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  A  HUSBAND.          83 

in  his  heart  despises  and  dislikes  the  weak  simpleton  who 
allowed  him  to  do  so. 

What  is  the  best  way  of  managing  a  husband  who  has 
a  chronic  bad  temper,  and  is  eternally  finding  fault  ?  This 
is  the  very  difficult  problem  which  many  a  poor  woman  has 
to  solve  in  her  everyday  life.  We  should  say  that  it  is  well 
to  make  this  amiable  being  clearly  understand  that  exhi- 
bitions of  temper  do  not  frighten  or  the  least  bit  impress 
you.  Above  all  do  not  "  pip  and  whine  and  go  trembling," 
for  if  you  once  appear  frightened,  and  say  that  you  do  not 
know  what  to  do,  all  influence  will  be  gone.  In  menageries 
the  men  who  go  into  the  cages  of  the  lions  are  never  hurt 
by  their  savage  occupants,  unless  for  some  reason  or  other 
they  lose  nerve  and  show  fear.  We  do  not  mean  to  in- 
sinuate that  many  husbands  are  wild  beasts,  or  that  wives 
should  jump  them  through  hoops,  and  put  them  through 
irritating  performances  before  strangers,  but  there  is  an  ape 
and  a  tiger  in  each  of  us,  and  the  wife  who  would  really 
help  her  husband  to  move  upward  and  work  out  the  beast 
must  be  careful  not  to  let  him  lose  his  respect  for  her. 
Make  him  see  from  the  first  that  you  are  not  a  fool,  and  that 
you  cannot  be  trifled  with. 

The  barracks  occupied  by  the  regiment  of  which  I  have 
spiritual  charge  having  to  be  repaired,  the  men  of  the  regi- 
ment were  put  under  canvass.  As  the  wives  and  children 
of  the  married  soldiers  could  not  well  live  in  tents  for  three 
months,  they  were  accommodated  in  a  neighbouring  fort. 
Here  there  were  only  a  few  rooms,  but  as  they  were  very 
large,  two  women  with  their  children  had  to  live  together  in 


84  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

each  room — an  arrangement  which  must  have  been  very 
trying  to  their  tempers.  Who  was  to  get  the  first  use  of  the 
fireplace  for  cooking  ?  How  were  the  mothers  to  prevent 
themselves  from  being  drawn  into  the  quarrels  of  their 
children  ?  It  was  the  duty  of  the  quartermaster  to  arrange 
in  each  case  the  two  particular  women  who  should  live 
together,  and  as  I  knew  a  good  deal  about  their  characters 
he  consulted  me  on  the  delicate  subject.  We  coupled  most 
of  them  with  comparative  ease,  until  we  came  to  the  names 
of  two  whose  tempers  were  notoriously  bad,  and  who  had 
given  the  colonel  and  quartermaster  more  trouble  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  women  put  together.  Who  would,  or  who 
could,  venture  to  live  with  them  ?  Happy  thought ! — put 
them  together.  This  we  did,  not  without  anxiety,  but  we 
had  heard  that  two  fiery  tempers  often  neutralized  each 
other,  and  we  knew  that  it  was  a  good  plan  to  set  a  thief  to 
catch  a  thief.  When  visiting  the  two  women  some  time  after- 
wards, half  expecting  that  a  Kilkenny  cat's  tragedy  had 
taken  place,  I  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  they 
had  agreed  better  than  any  of  the  other  pairs.  The  only 
way  that  I  can  account  for  this  mysterious  peacefulness  is 
that  each  woman  respected  the  gunpowdery  temper  of  her 
companion,  and  took  particular  care  not  to  explode  it. 

Is  not  the  result  often  the  same  when  a  bad-tempered, 
fault-finding  husband  gets  a  wife  with  a  temper  of  her  own  ? 
She  manages  him  by  giving  a  Roland  for  his  Oliver,  and  if 
the  man  threaten  to  run  away  from  her  wholesome  disci- 
pline she  will  answer  as  a  wife  the  other  day  actually  did : 
"  The  running  away  is  easy  enough,"  quoth  the  lady,  "  it's 
the  coming  back  that  will  bring  your  pride  down." 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  A  HUSBAND         85 

I  knew  a  strong-minded  wife  who  cured  her  husband  of 
habits  of  tippling  and  staying  away  from  home  which  he 
was  beginning  to  form,  by  a  sort  of  homoeopathic  treatment. 
He  was  fond  of  money,  and  grudged  every  penny  he  did 
not  spend  upon  himself.  So  whenever  he  indulged  in 
"  nips,"  his  wife  would  order  a  bottle  of  expensive  cham- 
pagne for  herself  and  friends.  If  he  went  on  excursions, 
or  to  places  of  amusement,  without  inviting  her  to  accom- 
pany him,  she  neither  lectured  nor  cried,  but  started  her- 
self with  all  the  children  on  some  expedition.  Finding  that 
in  this  way  he  was  always  paid  with  his  own  coin,  or  rather 
punished  by  the  loss  of  it,  he  became  a  model  husband. 

We  do  not  believe  with  Mrs.  Malaprop,  that  "'tis  safest 
in  matrimony  to  begin  with  a  little  aversion,"  but  we  are 
sure  that  there  are  low  natures  who  do  not  know  how  to  ap- 
preciate love,  and  who,  like  some  dogs,  behave  better  when 
not  too  much  made  of  and  petted.  Probably  this  is  the 
reason  why  many  love  matches  end  in  separations.  Cer- 
tainly a  wife  ought  to  love  her  husband,  but  he  may  value 
her  more  if  she  hide  her  heart  from  him  and  never  let  him 
know  how  dear  he  is. 

Some  men  have  to  be  managed  as  the  Irishman  does  his 
pig  when  driving  it  to  market  When  the  pig  is  led  to 
believe  that  he  is  wanted  to  go  one  way  he  goes  the  oppo- 
site with  the  greatest  of  pleasure.  Different  cases  must  be 
differently  treated.  To  give  in  to  some  men  makes  them 
worse.  To  agree  with  everything  they  say  and  do  has  been 
found  useful  in  the  case  of  others.  They  are  nothing  if 
not  in  opposition,  and  become  sad  and  submissive  when 
they  have  no  one  to  find  fault  with  except  themselves. 


86  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

I  have  just  received  the  following  letter : 

"DEAR  SIR, — As  one  who  greatly  admires  your  book 
(*  How  to  be  Happy  though  Married '),  may  I  be  allowed 
to  suggest  an  idea?  While  touching  on  temper,  money, 
and  other  things  affecting  the  happiness  of  married  life,  you 
have  failed  to  notice  jealousy.  I  don't  mean  as  it  is  often 
given  way  to  in  an  unreasonable  manner,  but  as  it  affects 
many  a  kind,  good  husband,  whose  wife  by  her  silly  flirta- 
tions makes  him  feel  neglected,  or  the  wife,  good  and  kind 
to  her  husband,  who  has  to  watch  that  husband  devote  his 
time  and  most  of  his  attention  to  some  girl  or  woman  who 
takes  his  fancy  for  a  time.  I  feel  sure  that  a  chapter  of 
advice  on  how  to  deal  with  a  reasonable  green-eyed  monster 
would  be  most  helpful. 

"  I  remain, 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  G.  T." 

The  remark  in  this  letter  of  our  obliging  correspondent 
that  the  wife  of  many  a  kind,  good  husband  "  by  her  silly 
flirtations  makes  him  feel  neglected,"  alludes  to  a  kind 
of  husband  -^management  which  is  fraught  with  incal- 
culable misery  to  all  concerned.  No  doubt  it  was  cases 
like  this  which  gave  rise  to  the  Russian  proverb  :  "  When 
you  go  to  sea  pray  once,  when  you  go  to  war  pray  twice, 
when  you  marry  pray  three  times."  Probably,  too,  the 
husband  had  a  flirting  wife  who  complained  that  a  Quaker 
friend  deceived  him  by  saying  that  when  he  married  he 
would  be  at  the  end  of  his  troubles.  "Yes,  friend,"  was 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  A  HUSBAND.         87 

the  Quaker's  explanation,  "  but  I  did  not  say  at  which  end." 
Seriously  speaking,  jealousy  causes  no  end  of  trouble  in 
married  life,  and  she  is  a  very  wicked  woman  who,  for  the 
sake  of  gratifying  her  vanity,  gives  to  her  husband  any 
reasonable  cause  for  feeling  the  torments  of  this  passion. 
She  cannot  do  so  without  breaking  every  marriage  vow. 

The  wife  who  would  manage  her  husband  ought  to  make 
her  personal  appearance  ever  attractive  to  him  ;  for  although 
he  may  not  seem  to  notice  it,  he  will,  and  it  will  have  a 
greater  influence  on  him  than  she  may  imagine.  She  should 
make  his  food  an  object  of  attention,  for  the  hearts  of 
many  men  can  only  be  reached  by  means  of  their  stomachs. 
The  sight  of  a  daintily  set  dinner-table  on  a  man's  return 
from  business  is  enough  to  dispel  the  gloom  from  the  most 
cantankerous  husband  living,  especially  when  it  is  backed 
by  the  knowledge  that  an  appetizing  meal  will  be  on  the 
table  ready  for  him  by  the  time  he  has  washed  his  hands, 
changed  his  coat,  and  prepared  himself  to  enjoy  it. 

It  is  well  in  this  way  for  a  wife  either  to  cook  herself  for 
her  husband,  or  to  see  that  it  is  properly  done  by  a  servant, 
but  it  is  even  better  to  be  able  to  cook  the  good  man  him- 
self. "  Cook  a  husband  !  Is  this  possible  ? "  Certainly, 
and  it  is  the  highest  attainment  of  the  culinary  art  One 
of  the  lecturers  before  the  Cooking  School  at  Baltimore 
recently  gave  this  recipe  :  "  A  good  many  husbands  are 
utterly  spoiled  by  mismanagement.  Some  women  go  about 
as  if  their  husbands  were  bladders,  and  blow  them  up. 
Others  keep  them  constantly  in  hot  water ;  others  let  them 
freeze  by  their  carelessness  and  indifference.  Some  keep 


88  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

them  in  a  stew  of  irritating  ways  and  words.  Others  roast 
them.  Some  keep  them  in  pickle  all  their  lives.  It  cannot 
be  supposed  that  any  husband  will  be  tender  and  good 
managed  in  this  way;  but  they  are  really  delicious  when 
properly  treated.  In  selecting  your  husband,  you  should 
not  be  guided  by  the  silvery  appearance — as  in  buying 
mackerel,  nor  by  the  golden  tint — as  if  you  wanted  salmon. 
Be  sure  to  select  him  yourself,  as  tastes  differ.  Do  not  go 
to  market  for  him,  as  the  best  are  always  brought  to  your 
door.  It  is  far  better  to  have  none  unless  you  will  patiently 
learn  how  to  cook  him.  A  preserving  kettle  of  the  finest 
porcelain  is  best ;  but  if  you  have  nothing  but  an  earthen  • 
ware  pipkin,  it  will  do,  with  care.  See  that  the  linen  in 
which  you  wrap  him  is  nicely  washed  and  mended,  with  the 
required  number  of  buttons  and  strings  tightly  sewed  on. 
Tie  him  in  the  kettle  by  a  strong  silk  cord  called  comfort,  as 
the  one  called  duty  is  apt  to  be  weak.  They  are  apt  to  fly 
out  of  the  kettle  and  be  burned  and  crusty  on  the  edges, 
since,  like  crabs  and  lobsters,  you  have  to  cook  them  while 
alive.  Make  a  clear  steady  fire  out  of  love,  neatness,  and 
cheerfulness.  Set  him  as  near  this  as  seems  to  agree  with 
him.  If  he  sputters  and  fizzes  do  not  be  anxious ;  some 
husbands  do  this  until  they  are  quite  done.  Add  a  little 
sugar  in  the  form  of  what  confectioners  call  kisses,  but  no 
vinegar  or  pepper  on  any  account.  A  little  spice  improves 
them,  but  it  must  be  used  with  judgment.  Do  not  stick 
any  sharp  instrument  into  him  to  see  if  he  is  becoming 
tender.  Stir  him  gently,  watching  the  while  lest  he  lie  too 
flat  and  close  to  the  kettle,  and  so  become  useless.  You 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  A  HUSBAND.         89 

cannot  fail  to  know  when  he  is  done.     If  thus  treated,  you 
will  find  him  very  digestible,  agreeing  nicely  with  you  and 
the  children,  and  he  will  keep  as  long  as  you  want,  unless ' 
you  become  careless  and  set  him  in  too  cold  a  place." 

The  homely,  affectionate,  and  familiar  way  in  which 
priests  officiating  at  French  weddings  address  the  brides 
and  bridegrooms  has  often  been  commented  upon.  One 
recently  delivered  ran  as  follows :  "  It  is  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart,  Joseph,  that  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  great 
step  you  are  taking.  It  was  indeed  sad  to  see  you  wasting 
your  youth  in  a  life  of  disgusting  drunkenness.  However, 
.all  is  well  that  ends  well ;  and  it  pleases  me  to  think  that 
you  have  said  good-bye  for  ever  to  the  wine  shop.  As  to 
you,  my  poor  Catherine,  thank  heaven  heartily  that  you  have 
been  able,  ugly  as  you  are,  to  find  a  husband.  Never  forget 
that  you  ought,  by  an  unchangeable  sweetness,  and  a  devo- 
tion without  bounds,  to  try  to  obtain  pardon  for  your  phy- 
sical imperfection  ;  for,  I  repeat,  you  are  a  real  blunder  of 
nature.  And  now,  my  dear  children,  I  join  you  in  matrimony." 

Catherine  might  well  be  comforted,  for  it  is  quite  true 
that  beauty  of  temper  atones  for  ugliness  of  face,  and  that 
a  sweet  and  devoted  wife  who  is  physically  imperfect  has 
in  the  long  run  a  greater  influence  over  her  husband  than 
one  who  is  better  looking  but  worse  tempered.  Never  lose 
your  temper :  it  ruins  the  face,  and  it  always  leaves  a  dis- 
agreeable impression  which  nothing  quite  rubs  out.  You 
will  grow  old  in  years ;  but  you  may  continue  youthful  in 
feeling,  and  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  your  husband  by  a 
constant  use  of  the  following  prescription  : 


90  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

"  Of  Unselfishness,  three  drams, 
Of  Essence  of  Heart's-ease,  three  drams, 
Of  the  Spirit  of  Charity,  three  drams,  and  no  scruples, 
Of  Extract  of  Rose  of  Sharon,  a  whole  ounce. 
The  mixture  to  be  taken  daily." 

As  a  rule  "  the  husband  is  the  head  of  the  wife ; "  but 
sometimes  she  is  the  stronger  of  the  two.  It  is  not  her 
fault  that  she  is  the  stronger;  she  is  what  she  has  been 
made,  and  water  must  find  its  own  level.  Let  her  guide 
her  husband  along  the  right  road  without  his  feeling  the  bit. 
She  must  choose  her  opportunity  and  cultivate  tact  A 
good  wife  is — 

"Blessed  with  temper,  whose  unclouded  ray 
Can  make  to-morrow  cheerful  as  to-day  ! 
She  who  ne'er  answers  till  a  husband  cools, 
Or,  if  she  rules  him,  never  shows  she  rules  ; 
Charms  by  accepting,  by  submitting,  sways, 
Yet  has  her  humour  most  when  she  obeys." 

For  the  sake  of  completeness  this  chapter  should  be  fol- 
lowed by  one  on  the  management  of  a  wife.  We  give  it 
up,  and  leave  it  to  be  written  by  the  man  who  has  managed 
a  wife,  and  who  knows  how  it  is  done.  It  is  true  that 
Petrucio  is  represented  by  Shakespeare  as  having  managed 
even  "  Katharine  the  curst,"  but  this  never  was  done  in 
real  life,  and  is  only  the  creation  of  the  poet's  brain.  I 
shall  say  nothing  of  my  own  on  the  subject,  but  shall  quote 
a  remark  lately  made  to  me  by  a  young  married  woman : 
"  We  women,"  she  said,  "like  to  be  mastered  if  we  get  a 
really  good  master,  but  that  is  the  great  difficulty." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


FAMILY   GOVERNMENT. 


14  Bring  thy  children  up  in  learning  and  obedience,  yet  without  out- 
ward austerity.  Praise  them  openly,  reprehend  them  secretly.  Give 
them  good  countenance  and  convenient  maintenance  according  to  thy 
ability,  otherwise  thy  life  will  seem  their  bondage,  and  what  portion 
thou  shalt  leave  them  at  thy  death,  they  will  thank  death  for  it,  and 
not  thee.  And  I  am  persuaded  that  the  foolish  cockering  of  some 
parents,  and  the  over-stern  carriage  of  others,  causeth  more  men  and 
women  to  take  ill  courses  than  their  own  vicious  inclinations." — Lord 
Burleight 

HE  patriarchal  or  family  form  of  government 
is  generally  acknowledged  to  be  the  founda- 
tion and  first  development  of  all  government. 
The  man  who  can  well  rule  his  family  is 
capable  of  governing  a  kingdom.  No  won- 
der that  the  Apostle  Paul  should  say,  when  speaking  of  the 
necessary  qualifications  of  a  bishop,  that  a  suitable  candidate 
for  the  office  is  one  who  maintains  good  government  in  his 


92  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

own  house.  "  For  if  a  man  know  not  how  to  rule  his  own 
house,  how  shall  he  take  care  of  the  Church  of  God?"  Yet 
this  is  the  government  that  people  generally  undertake 
without  any  serious  thought  or  the  slightest  preparation. 
Parents  go  into  their  office  with  good  intentions  perhaps, 
but  without  any  attempt  to  understand  the  duties  and 
authority  it  involves.  We  all  understand  that  some  kind 
of  preparation  is  necessary  to  teach  school,  drill  soldiers,  or 
even  to  make  coats  and  boots ;  but  as  regards  preparation 
for  parenthood — this  is  ignored  by  every  curriculum  ot 
education. 

The  first  thing  to  be  said  about  family  government  is  that 
it  should  really  maintain  law  and  rule.  It  is  more  than  a 
mere  nursing,  petting,  and  provisioning  agency.  Fancying 
that  there  is  a  kind  of  severity  implied  in  the  act  of  govern- 
ing, some  parents  are  unwilling  to  bear  rule  at  all.  And 
yet  by  common  consent  we  speak  of  an  ungoverned  family 
as  a  synonym  of  a  disorderly,  wretched,  if  not  ruined  family. 
There  is  no  greater  cruelty  than  this  false  tenderness.  There 
is  indeed  a  kind  of  cruelty  on  the  opposite  side  when 
despotic  will  and  violence  make  no  appeal  to  the  moral 
nature.  Yet  even  this  may  not  be  so  cruel  in  its  effects  as 
the  false  tenderness  just  named. 

Parental  authority  should  be  regarded  as  vicegerent 
authority  set  up  by  God  and  ruling  in  His  stead.  A  parent 
Is  to  a  child  what  God  is  to  a  good  man.  He  is  the  moral 
governor  of  its  world  of  childhood.  Parental  government 
is  therefore  only  genuine  when  it  rules  for  the  same  ends  as 
God  pursues.  But  how  seldom  is  this  ideal  even  in  a  small 


FAMIL  Y  GO  VERNMENT.  93 

degree  realized !  We  rule  as  parents  in  a  careless,  irrespon- 
sible way,  making  laws,  not  for  the  child's  highest  and  most 
lasting  good,  but  for  our  own  selfish  convenience  or  for  the 
gratification  of  vanity.  We  want  our  children  to  shine  and 
be  fashionable,  and  with  this  end  in  view  a  vexatious  yoke 
of  unnecessary  commands  is  put  upon  them.  If  some 
parents  exerted  themselves  as  much  in  developing  the  moral 
characters  of  their  children  as  they  do  in  making  them 
please  their  own  hobbies,  they  would  indeed  be  parental 
models. 

When  children  accord  willing  obedience,  then  the  end  of 
family  government  is  gained.  By  willing  obedience  is  meant 
that  obedience  which  springs  from  right  motive  and  is  not 
given  to  mere  will  and  force.  The  highest  and  perhaps  the 
most  effective  motives  that  can  be  urged  are  such  as  these : 
Doing  right  because  it  is  right ;  God's  approbation ;  the 
approval  of  conscience ;  the  sense  of  honour  as  opposed  to 
the  meanness  of  lying  and  deceit.  Besides  these  highest 
motives  there  are  lower  ones  that  are  sometimes  more 
practical.  Rewards  and  punishments  are  second-class 
motives,  but  they  cannot  be  dispensed  with.  It  is  certainly 
better  even  to  bribe  a  child  to  do  good  than  not  to  have 
the  good  done.  And  as  regards  fear,  if  it  be  a  mean 
motive,  yet  it  is  the  only  one  to  which  mean  children  will 
much  attend.  There  is,  then,  to  be  such  a  thing  as  penalty 
in  family  government,  but  it  should  be  inflicted  with  the 
greatest  consideration.  First  of  all,  it  should  be  threatened 
and  inflicted  as  seldom  as  possible.  When,  however,  it  is 
threatened,  let  it  be  inflicted,  for  nothing  so  much  weakens 


94  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

the  force  of  discipline  as  threatenings  which,  though  full  of 
sound  and  fury,  are  known  by  a  child's  experience  to  mean 
nothing.  The  other  day  I  heard  of  a  precocious  boy  of  five 
years  old  who,  in  the  presence  of  several  people,  thus  re- 
plied to  his  father  when  he  threatened  to  punish  him  unless 
he  became  good  immediately:  "No  you  won't,"  said  this 
young  despiser  of  authority,  "for  you  tell  me  the  same 
ihing  every  day,  and  never  do  anything." 

Punishments  should  be  severe  enough  to  serve  their 
purpose  and  gentle  enough  to  ensure  the  continuance  of 
affection.  Nor  should  the  child  be  left  alone  until  he  feels 
that  the  punishment  has  been  inflicted  for  his  own  good, 
and  gives  assurance  of  this  feeling  by  putting  on  a  pleasant 
face.  The  fashion  of  reproving  children  and  servants  in 
the  presence  of  others  is  to  be  deprecated.  Pride,  stubborn- 
ness, and  self-will  are  aroused  by  it,  while  a  more  private 
reproof  might  be  received  even  with  thankfulness. 

Much  depends  on  the  tone  of  voice  and  manner  in  which 
commands  are  given.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that 
what  will  make  a  child  stare  or  tremble  impresses  authority. 
Let  the  command  be  given  quietly,  as  if  it  had  right  in 
itself,  and  should  as  a  matter  of  course  commend  itself  to 
the  child's  conscience.  And  only  so  many  things  should 
be  commanded  as  can  be  faithfully  attended  to.  Be  sparing 
of  commands,  and  let  them  be  given  rather  for  the  child's 
advantage  than  for  your  own.  Above  all,  let  there  be  con- 
sistency in  commanding. 

Consider  well  what  you  are  going  to  do ;  weigh  all  the 
consequences ;  and  then,  if  you  give  the  command,  enforce 


r 

FA  MIL  Y  GO  VERNMENT.  95 

obedience  at  whatever  cost.  "  Of  errors  in  education," 
says  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  "one  of  the  worst  is  inconsis- 
tency. As  in  a  community,  crimes  multiply  when  there  is 
no  certain  administration  of  justice;  so  in  a  family,  an 
increase  of  transgressions  results  from  a  hesitating  or  irregu- 
lar infliction  of  punishment.  A  weak  mother,  who  perpetu- 
ally threatens  and  rarely  performs — who  makes  rules  in 
haste  and  repents  of  them  at  leisure — who  treats  the  same 
offence  now  with  severity  and  now  with  leniency,  as  the 
passing  humour  dictates,  is  laying  up  miseries  for  herselt 
and  her  children.  She  is  making  herself  contemptible  in 
their  eyes ;  she  is  setting  them  an  example  of  uncontrolled 
feelings ;  she  is  encouraging  them  to  transgress  by  the 
prospect  of  probable  impunity;  she  is  entailing  endless 
squabbles  and  accompanying  damage  to  her  own  temper 
and  the  tempers  of  her  little  ones.  Let  your  penalties  be 
like  the  penalties  inflicted  by  inanimate  nature — inevitable. 
The  hot  cinder  burns  a  child  the  first  time  he  seizes  it ;  it 
burns  him  the  second  time ;  it  burns  him  the  third  time ; 
it  burns  him  every  time ;  and  he  very  soon  learns  not  to 
touch  the  hot  cinder.  If  you  are  equally  consistent — if  the 
consequences  which  you  tell  your  child  will  follow  specified 
acts,  follow  with  like  uniformity,  he  will  soon  come  to 
respect  your  laws  as  he  does  those  of  nature.  And  this 
respect  once  established  will  prevent  endless  domestic 
evils." 

It  is  of  the  highest  importance  in  family  government  that 
parents  understand  how  early  it  begins.  People  fancy  that 
they  can  have  but  little  influence  on  the  soul  of  infancy. 


96  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

What  can  they  do  till  they  can  speak  to  it  ?  What  can  it 
do  till  it  speaks  ?  We  answer  very  much  indeed.  More 
perhaps  is  done  to  affect  the  character  of  children  before 
the  age  of  language  than  after.  This  is  the  period  of  im- 
pressions, and  the  child  may  now  very  easily  be  impressed 
in  a  wrong  way,  if  petty  airs  of  foppery  are  encouraged,  if 
the  repetition  of  bad  tricks  is  laughed  at,  if  every  sort  of 
temper  is  indulged  in  towards  it,  or  if  the  house  be  filled 
with  a  din  of  scolding  between  parents.  We  should  not, 
then,  pass  over  this  precious  age  of  impressions  in  idle 
security,  or  misuse  it  in  mischievous  indiscretions,  or  give 
our  children  up  to  the  thoughtless  keeping  of  attendants. 
Very  quick  is  the  child's  eye  in  the  passive  age  of  infancy 
to  catch  impressions  and  perceive  the  meaning  of  looks, 
voices,  and  motions.  It  examines  all  faces  and  colours  and 
sounds.  Every  sentiment  is  reflected  on  its  face  as  on  a 
glass.  If  the  child  is  handled  fretfully,  scolded,  shaken,  or 
even  laid  aside  without  affection,  it  feels  exactly  that  which 
is  felt  towards  it ;  it  is  angered  by  anger,  made  impatient 
by  impatience,  fretted  by  fretting.  There  is  scarcely  room 
to  doubt  that  all  crabbed,  resentful,  passionate  characters, 
as  well  as  all  that  are  gentle,  patient,  and  loving,  are  more 
or  less  prepared  in  the  nursery.  To  the  question,  "  At  what 
age  would  you  educate  a  child  ? "  a  wise  man  answered, 
"  Twenty  years  before  its  birth,  by  educating  its  father  and 
mother."  As  a  general  rule,  perhaps  more  is  done,  or 
neglected  to  be  done,  in  moulding  a  child's  character  in  the 
first  four  years  of  life  than  in  all  his  years  of  education 
afterwards. 


FAMILY  GOVERNMENT.  97 

In  the  early  periods  of  childhood,  authority  should  expect 
the  implicit  obedience  that  asks  not  "why."  It  should  have 
nothing  to  do  with  reasons,  at  least  before  it  is  obeyed.  It 
is  good  for  the  character  of  a  young  child  to  be  accustomed 
to  obey  on  the  ground  of  simple  authority.  At  the  same 
time  we  must  guard  against  the  exacting  and  dictatorial 
manner  that  only  provokes  to  wrath. 

The  common  fault  of  commanding  too  much  and  omitting 
to  enforce  what  is  commanded  has  been  alluded  to ;  there 
is  another  kind  of  fault  which  commands  overmuch,  and 
rigidly  exacts  what  is  commanded.  The  parent  then  appears 
to  the  child  only  as  a  bundle  of  commands,  who  continually 
exacts  something  for  no  other  reason  than  to  take  away 
even  the  semblance  of  liberty.  This  is  often  done  to  break 
the  child's  will,  but  this  will-breaking  process  too  often 
makes  cowards,  hypocrites,  and  mean-spirited  sycophants. 
Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  dreadful  than  this  breaking  of  a 
will,  when  it  breaks,  as  it  often  does,  the  personality  itself, 
and  all  firmness  of  manhood.  The  true  problem  is  not 
to  break,  but  to  bend ;  to  draw  the  will  by  sweetness  away 
from  self-assertion  to  self-surrender ;  to  teach  it  the  way  of 
submitting  to  wise  limitations. 

Great  care  is  needed  in  detecting  the  faults  of  childhood. 
While  children  must  not  be  allowed  to  go  into  the  ways  of 
vice  undetected,  the  circumspection  required  to  prevent 
this  must  be  very  different  from  deliberate  espionage,  than 
which  nothing  will  more  certainly  alienate  confidence  and 
love.  If  a  child  feels  he  is  not  trusted  he  will  soon  become 
as  unworthy  of  trust  as  he  has  been  taken  to  be.  On  the 

7 


93  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

other  hand,  he  will  naturally  want  to  be  worthy  of  the  trust 
he  receives.  The  doctrine  of  implicit  obedience  in  family 
government  only  applies  to  very  young  children.  A  wise 
parent  understands  that  his  government  is  to  be  crowned 
one  day  by  the  emancipation  of  the  child,  and  that  the 
gradual,  graceful  accomplishment  of  this  emancipation  is  a 
very  great  matter.  The  process  in  order  to  be  well  finished 
should  begin  early.  The  child,  after  being  ruled  for  a  time 
by  pure  authority,  should  begin,  as  the  understanding  is 
developed,  to  have  some  of  the  reasons  given  why  this  or 
that  thing  is  required  to  be  done.  His  tastes,  too  should 
be  consulted  in  respect  to  his  future  engagements  in  life. 
Among  birds,  the  young  are  taught  to  use  their  wings  not 
all  at  once,  but  by  degrees.  Let  parents  take  a  lesson  from 
this  fact,  and  give  to  their  children  gradual  independence. 

Human  nature  requires  amusement  as  well  as  teaching 
and  correction.  To  cater  for  the  family  amusement  is  a  part 
of  parental  government  that  must  not  be  overlooked.  One 
of  the  first  duties  of  a  parent  is  to  sympathize  with  the  play 
of  his  children.  How  very  much  do  little  children  crave 
for  sympathy  !  They  hold  out  every  new  object  for  you  to 
see  it  with  them,  and  look  up  after  each  gambol  for  you  to 
rejoice  with  them. 

Let  play-times  and  play-things  be  given  liberally.  Invite 
suitable  companions,  and  do  everything  in  your  power  to 
make  home  sweet.  It  is  the  greatest  pleasure  to  right- 
hearted  people  to  forget  their  years  as  they  enter  into  the 
frolic  of  '-.heir  children.  Nor  will  this  weaken  our  power  of 
governing.  Rather  the  authority  so  far  unbent  will  be  all 


FAMIL  Y  GO  VERNMENT.  99 

the  stronger  and  more  welcome  for  our  display  of  real  sym- 
pathy. If  family  government  were  well  carried  out  in  every 
home,  children  would  be  happier  and  better  than  they  are  now. 

Then  there  would  be  even  in  our  great  towns  a  partial 
realization  of  the  words  of  the  prophet  Zechariah,  in  refer- 
ence to  Jerusalem  delivered  :  "  And  the  streets  of  the  city 
shall  be  full  of  boys  and  girls  playing  in  the  streets  thereof." 
We  often  recollect  with  pleasure  the  qualification  which  a 
friend  of  ours  asked  for  in  a  teacher  for  his  children — "Can 
you  laugh  and  make  fun  ? "  It  was  strictly  philosophical. 
The  boy  is  not  learning  anything  when  he  is  amusing 
himself,  but  he  is  strengthening  his  brain  that  it  may  be 
better  able  to  learn  and  to  act  when  the  good  time  comes. 
Is  it  not  better  to  begin  life  with  a  good  sound  instrument, 
fit  for  the  utmost  duty  its  natural  reach  of  power  admits  of, 
than  with  an  enfeebled  instrument  which  has  only  got  a 
smattering  of  a  great  number  of  things  it  does  not  compre- 
hend ?  Old  and  precise  people  like  to  see  a  quiet,  grave 
child.  In  sober  truth,  there  is  nothing  more  alarming.  It 
is  almost  sure  to  be  an  indication  of  some  extraordinary 
quality  of  not  a  safe  kind. 

In  bringing  up .  children  there  are  two  extremes  to  be 
avoided.  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  extravagant  indulgence, 
vitiating  the  character  almost  before  it  has  had  time  to  show 
the  first  spring- flowers  of  its  native  innocence;  on  the 
other,  austerity,  ill-nature,  and  gloom,  making  all  the  May 
of  life  a  November,  checking  the  growth  of  the  affections, 
and  introducing  distrust  and  fear  where  as  yet  unsuspecting 
confidence  should  reign. 


ioo  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

We  are  indebted  to  Public  Opinion  for  the  following  well- 
devised  rules  for  spoiling  a  child  : — i.  Begin  young  by  giving 
him  whatever  he  cries  for.  2.  Talk  freely  before  the  child 
about  his  smartness  as  incomparable.  3.  Tell  him  he  is 
too  much  for  you,  that  you  can  do  nothing  with  him. 

4.  Have  divided  counsels  as  between  father  and  mother. 

5.  Let  him  learn  to  regard  his  father  as  a  creature  of  un- 
limited  power,   capricious   and   tyrannical;   or  as  a  mere 
whipping  machine.      6.   Let  him  learn   (from  his  father's 
example)  to  despise  his  mother.     7.  Do  not  know  or  care 
who  his  companions  may  be.     8.  Let  him  read  whatever  he 
likes.     9.  Let  the  child,  whether  boy  or  girl,  rove  the  streets 
in  the  evenings — a  good  school  for  both  sexes.     10.  Devote 
yourself  to  making  money,  remembering  always  that  wealth 
is  a  better  legacy  for  your  child  than  principles  in  the  heart 
and  habits  in  the  life ;  and  let  him  have  plenty  of  money  to 
spend,     ii.  Be  not  with  him  in  hours  of  recreation.     12. 
Strain  at  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel ;  chastise  severely  for 
a  foible,  and  laugh  at  a  vice.     13.  Let  him  run  about  from 
church  to  church ;  eclecticism  in  religion  is  the  order  of  the 
day.     14.  Whatever  burdens  of  virtuous  requirements  you 
lay  on  his  shoulders,  touch  not  with  one  of  your  fingers. 
These  rules  are  not  untried.     Many  parents  have  proved 
them,  with  substantial  uniformity  of  results.     If  a  fathful 
observance  of  them  does  not  spoil  your  child,  you  will  at 
least  have  the  comfortable  reflection  that  you  have  done 
what  you  could. 

"Enough,"  said  Rasselas  to  Imlac;  "you  convince  me 
that  no  man  can  ever  be  a  poet."     And  truly,  if  we  seriously 


FAMILY 


reflect  on  the  duties  of  parenthood,  we  may  conclude  that, 
in  this  imperfect  world,  no  one  ever  can  be  a  good  parent. 
Poor  Margaret  Fuller,  recording  in  her  diary  the  event  of 
her  child's  birth,  expressed  a  feeling  of  responsibility  with 
which  many  parents  can  sympathize.  "  I  am  the  mother  of 
an  immortal  being  !  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner  ! " 
Was  not  the  sense  of  her  own  unworthiness  and  incapacity 
for  her  sacred  task  the  very  best  preparation  for  performing 
it  well? 


CHAPTER  X. 


VAINGLORIOUS   HOUSEKEEPING. 


"  The  tone  of  living  in  England  is  altogether  too  high.  Middle-class 
people  are  too  apt  to  live  up  to  their  incomes,  if  not  beyond  them  ; 
affecting  a  degree  of  '  style  '  which  is  most  unhealthy  in  its  effects  upon 
society  at  large.  There  is  a  dreadful  ambition  abroad  for  being 
'genteel.'"— Smiles. 

]N  early  life  Sydney  Smith  was  very  poor,  but 
he  contrived  to  put  his  poverty  in  such  a 
humorous  light,  that  it  became  a  source  of 
mirth  rather  than  of  misery.  He  had  none 
of  the  false  shame  that  more  than  anything 
else  makes  poverty  bitter,  and  never  shrank  from  saying  "  I 
can't  afford  it."  How  poor  he  was  when  living  in  Edinburgh, 
immediately  after  his  marriage,  is  humorously  expressed  in 
the  motto  he  suggested  for  the  Edinburgh  Review,  then 
started  by  him  in  conjunction  with  his  not  less  impoverished 
friends,  Brougham  and  Jeffrey — Tenui  musam  meditamur 


VAINGLORIOUS  HOUSEKEEPING.  103 

arena  ("  We  cultivate  literature  on  a  little  oatmeal ").  In 
hopes  of  bettering  his  circumstances,  he  removed  to  London  ; 
but  here,  in  spite  of  earnest  endeavours  to  obtain  employ- 
ment, he  remained  poor  for  many  years.  But  it  was  poverty 
in  a  form  that  was  almost  attractive.  There  was  no  seeming 
in  his  little  household,  substantial  comfort — which  he  called 
the  "  grammar  of  life  " — being  always  preferred  to  outward 
show.  "  Avoid  shame,  but  do  not  seek  glory ;  nothing  so 
expensive  as  glory."  This  principle  regulated  every  detail 
of  his  establishment  Some  lectures  he  delivered  at  the 
Royal  Institution  enabled  him  to  furnish  a  larger  house, 
where  he  established  little  weekly  suppers  as  centres  of 
attraction  to  his  ever-widening  circle  of  friends.  Nothing 
could  be  plainer  than  these  suppers  were,  yet  the  host's 
*  feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul "  drew  all  the  most  cele- 
brated people  of  London  to  share  his  single  dish.  Young 
couples  beginning  life  have  it  in  their  power  to  halve  their 
anxieties  and  double  their  chance  of  happiness  if  they  would 
resolve  to  act  upon  this  principle — "  Avoid  shame,  but  do 
not  seek  glory."  To  try  to  keep  up  vainglorious  appearances 
is  most  foolish — "your  glorying  is  not  good."  It  makes  so- 
called  friends  laugh,  and  brings  you  into  debt  and  every  kind 
of  difficulty.  But  this  is  a  very  common  form  of  social  evil. 
The  world,  we  know,  is  deceived  by  ornament,  and  thinks 
more  of  the  shadow  than  of  the  substance ;  accordingly, 
people  of  the  let-us-be-genteel-or-die  class  overwork  and 
overfret  themselves  to  keep  up  appearances.  Having  food 
and  raiment,  they  are  not  content  unless  they  have  a  larger 
house  than  Mrs.  So-and-so,  a  greater  number  of  servants 


104  "MANNERS  MAKYTH 


than  she  is  tyrannized  over  by,  and  give  more  entertainments, 
which  are  not  "in  a  friendly  way,"  but  for  the  sake  of 
arousing  envy  at  supposed  wealth.  How  much  more  free 
and  happy  people  must  have  been 

"  That  time  the  sturdy  English  middle  class 
Was  not  so  fine  as  now  ;  .  .  . 
Daughters  and  wives  would  wear  a  last  year's  gown 
Without  a  fume  because  the  gay  beau  monde 
Had  slashed  its  sleeves  and  clipped  an  inch  of  skirt. 
And  housewives  clung  to  old  receipts,  old  ways 
Of  ordering  this  and  that,  their  mothers  taught  ; 
And,  most  of  all,  eschewed  the  petty  tricks 
Of  show,  to  make  the  little  seem  the  much." 

Whether  it  be  right  to  marry  on  ^300  per  annum  is  a 
question  often  debated  in  the  middle  class.  Now,  surely  we 
could  easily  solve  this  problem,  while  fully  sympathizing  with 
the  political  economist's  righteous  indignation  at  imprudent 
marriages,  if  plain  living  and  high  thinking  were  considered 
as  important  as  keeping  up  appearances.  A  married  clerk 
receiving  a  salary  of  ^"200  or  ^300  a  year  is  badly  off— 
why  ?  Because  his  wife,  having  obtained  the  usual  education, 
or  want  of  education,  knows  nothing  useful,  and  would  think 
it  a  degradation  to  free  herself  from  the  intolerable  nuisance 
of  bad  servants  by  becoming  her  own  "  lady  help,"  and  doing 
at  least  some  of  her  household  work. 

It  is  a  great  blessing  to  have  been  trained  hardily.  Hun- 
dreds of  middle-class  people  are  heavily  handicapped  in  the 
race  of  life  because  they  find  it  hard  to  do  without  luxuries 
which  they  can  ill  afford  to  buy,  but  which  they  would  never 
have  missed  if  they  had  not  been  accustomed  to  them  in 


VAINGLORIOUS  HOUSEKEEPING.  105 

childhood.  This  must  become  every  year  more  apparent, 
because  the  classes  that  have  hitherto  had  the  monopoly  of 
education  have  now  to  compete  with  the  working-classes 
trained  to  privation  for  generations. 

We  cannot  help  being  poor  if  we  are  luxurious,  for 
"  Want  is  a  growing  giant  whom  the  coat  of  Have  was  never 
large  enough  to  cover."  "Why,"  asks  a  wit,  "  does  the  'girl  of 
the  period'  make  the  best  housekeeper  ?  Because  she  makes 
so  much  bustle  about  a  little  waist."  Unfortunately  this  is 
not  true  of  her  housekeeping. 

What  an  admirable  manager  of  money  was  Mrs.  Carlyle  ! 
" There  was,"  writes  Mr.  Froude,  "a  discussion  some  years 
ago  in  the  newspapers  whether  two  people  with  the  habits  of 
a  lady  and  a  gentleman  could  live  together  in  London  on 
three  hundred  pounds  a  year.  Mrs.  Carlyle,  who  often 
laughed  about  it  while  it  was  going  on,  will  answer  the 
question.  No  one  who  visited  the  Carlyles  could  tell 
whether  they  were  poor  or  rich.  There  were  no  signs  of 
extravagance,  but  also  none  of  poverty.  The  drawing-room 
arrangements  were  exceptionally  elegant.  The  furniture  was 
simple,  but  solid  and  handsome;  everything  was  scrupulously 
clean  ;  everything  good  of  its  kind  ;  and  there  was  an  air  of 
ease,  as  'of  a  household  living  within  its  means.  Mrs. 
Carlyle  was  well  dressed  always.  Her  admirable  taste  would 
make  the  most  of  inexpensive  materials ;  but  the  materials 
themselves  were  of  the  very  best.  Carlyle  himself  generally 
kept  a  horse.  They  travelled,  they  visited,  they  were  always 
generous  apd  open-handed."  All  this  was  done  on  an 
income  of  not  quite  four  hundred  pounds.  Of  course  Carlyle, 


io6  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

as  well  as  his  wife,  was  imbued  with  Scotch  thrift,  showing 
itself  in  hatred  of  waste.  If  he  saw  a  crust  of  bread  on  the 
roadway,  he  would  stop  to  pick  it  up,  and  put  it  on  a  step  or 
a  railing.  "  Some  poor  creature  might  be  glad  of  it,  or  at 
worst  a  dog  or  a  sparrow.  To  destroy  wholesome  food  is  a 
sin." 

There  are  thousands  of  women  in  these  islands  who  cannot 
marry.  But,  why  cannot  they  marry  ?  Because  they  have 
false  notions  about  respectability.  So  long  as  the  miserable 
and  polluting  idleness  of  a  merely  novel-reading  existence  is 
supposed  to  keep  up  appearances  better  than  paying  one's 
reckoning  at  life's  feast  by  useful  work ;  so  long  as  wearing 
dresses  which  a  husband  cannot  afford  is  more  fashionable 
»  than  cooking  a  dinner  or  sweeping  a  floor,  so  long  will 
eligible  young  men  prudently  decline  the  famous  advice, 
"  Marry  early  ;  yes,  marry  early— and  marry  often  ! " 

A  gentleman  married  an  Irish  servant  girl  and  gave  as  his 
reason  that  if  he  married  in  his  own  sphere,  he  must  keep  a 
girl  for  his  wife's  service,  so  he  married  the  girl  instead. 

"  But  that's  servant's  work  !  "  Mr.  Ruskin  will  answer 
this  objection  for  us.  "  Of  course  it  is.  What  business  have 
you  to  hope  to  be  better  than  a  servant  of  servants  ?  '  God 
made  you  a  lady  '  ?  Yes,  He  has  put  you,  that  is  to  say,  in 
a  position  in  which  you  may  learn  to  speak  your  own 
language  beautifully ;  to  be  accurately  acquainted  with  the 
elements  of  other  languages ;  to  behave  with  grace,  tactv  and 
sympathy  to  all  around  you ;  to  know  the  history  of  your 
country,  the  commands  of  its  religion,  and  the  duties  of  its 
race.  If  you  obey  His  will  in  learning  these  things,  you  will 


VAINGLORIOUS  HOUSEKEEPING.  107 

obtain  the  power  of  becoming  a  true  '  lady ' ;  and  you  will 
become  one  if,  while  you  learn  these  things,  you  set  yourself, 
with  all  the  strength  of  your  youth  and  womanhood,  to  serve 
His  servants,  until  the  day  come  when  He  calls  you,  to  say, 
*  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant :  enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  Lord.'  " 

You  may  thus  become  a  Christ's  lady,  or  you  may,  if  you 
will,  become  a  Belial's  lady,  taking  Belial's  gift  of  miserable 
idleness,  living  on  the  labour  and  shame  of  others,  and 
deceiving  them  and  yourself  by  lies. 

When  Cobbett  was  a  soldier  in  America,  it  was  his  habit 
to  take  a  walk  before  breakfast  on  a  hill  near  the  barracks. 
One  morning,  as  he  was  passing  the  door  of  a  sergeant-major 
of  artillery,  when  it  was  scarcely  light,  he  saw  the  sergeant's 
daughter  scrubbing  a  washing-tub  on  the  snow.  "  That  is 
the  girl  for  me  ! "  he  exclaimed,  and  subsequent  events 
proved  the  wisdom  of  his  choice.  Probably  the  majority  of 
.  men  think,  with  Cobbett,  that  "women,  so  amiable  in  them- 
\elves,  are  never  so  amiable  as  when  they  are  useful,"  or,  in 
other  words,  that  a  woman  best  keeps  up  appearances  when 
she  shows  herself  ready  to  put  her  hand  to  any  work  that 
may  benefit  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  her. 

How  often  do  we  hear  the  phrases — "  What  will  the  world 
say?" — "Perhaps;  but,  then,  we  live  in  the  world."  This 
"world"  is  at  once  the  idol  and  the  bete  noire  of  multitudes 
during  their  existence.  They  are  in  subjugation  to  fashion 
from  the  day  when  baby's  first  wardrobe  must  be  of  the  most 
extravagant  description,  costing  almost  as  much  as  mamma's 
absurdly  expensive  marriage  outfit,  down  to  the  day  when 


io3  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

they  are  carried  to  their  rest  in  coffins  more  costly  than 
comfortable — at  least  to  those  who  must  pay  for  them — under 
a  proper  amount  of  feathers,  and  accompanied  by  a  customary 
number  of  professional  mourners,  looking  ghastly  respectable 
in  their  trappings  and  suits  of  woe.  The  manly  motto  of 
the  Keiths,  Earls  Mareschal  of  Scotland — "  They  say  ;  what 
say  they  ?  Let  them  say  " — has  given  place  to — "  They  say. 
Oh,  do  they  say  so  ?  Then  we  shall  or  we  sha'n't  do  it." 

A  popular  authoress  tells  us  that  a  young  lady  once  asked 
her,  "  Do  you  think  that  Henry  and  I  ought  to  marry  upon 
less  than  four  hundred  a  year  ?  "  "  No,  certainly,  my  dear  : 
because  you  marry  for  so  many  people's  benefit  besides  your 
own.  How,  for  instance,  could  your  acquaintance  bear  to 
see  moreen  curtains,  instead  of  the  blue  and  silver  damask 
you  were  talking  of?  And  how  could  you  give  those  charm- 
ing little  dinner-parties,  which  you  say  are  indispensable  to 
one  in  your  position,  without  three  servants,  or  a  boy  in 
buttons  as  well  ?  Nay,  if  you  went  into  society  at  all,  of  the 
kind  you  now  keep,  a  fifth  of  Henry's  annual  income  would 
melt  away  in  dresses,  bouquets,  and  white  kid  gloves.  No, 
my  dear  girl ;  I  can  by  no  means  advise  you  to  marry  upon 
less  than  four  hundred  a  year."  We  should  think  not  indeed. 

And  yet  society  will  stand  a  great  amount  of  "eccentricity" 
from  anybody  who  takes  the  bull  by  the  horns,  too  fearless 
or  too  indifferent  to  think  of  consequences.  But,  instead  of 
doing  this,  people  run  into  debt  rather  than  use  an  article  of 
dress  or  furniture  a  year  behind  the  mode  ;  give  a  ball  and 
stint  the  family  dinner  for  a  month  after ;  take  a  large  house, 
and  furnish  handsome  reception  rooms,  while  their  house- 


VAINGLORIOUS  HOUSEKEEPING.  109 

nolds  huddle  together  anyhow  in  untidy  attic  bed-chambers. 
They  prefer  this  to  stating  plainly,  by  word  or  manner,  "  My 
income  is  so  much  a  year  \  it  will  not  allow  me  to  live  beyond 
a  certain  rate ;  it  will  not  keep  comfortably  both  my  family 
and  acquaintances;  therefore,  excuse  my  preferring  the 
comfort  of  my  family  to  the  entertainment  of  my  acquaint- 
ances ;  and,  society,  if  you  choose  to  look  in  upon  us,  you 
must  just  take  us  as  we  are,  without  pretences  of  any  kind,  or 
you  may  leave  us  alone  to  enjoy  your  absence."  If  in  this 
way  young  people  would  bravely  say  on  certain  occasions 
"  we  can't  afford  it,"  and  would  realize  the  truth  that  the 
laughter  of  fools  is  of  no  more  consequence  than  "  the 
crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot,"  they  would  be  much  more 
likely  to  be  happy  in  their  domestic  life. 


CHAPTER  XL 

KEEPING   UP   APPEARANCES. 

"  Time  was,  when  in  English  life,  the  comedy  of  '  Every  Man  in  his 
Humour '  was  daily  enacted  among  us  ;  but  now  the  poor  French  word, 
French  in  every  sense,  '  QtSen  dira-t-on  ? '  spellbinds  us  all,  and  we 
have  nothing  for  it  but  to  drill  and  cane  each  other  into  one  uniform, 
regimental  'nation  of  gentlemen.'  " — Carlyle. 

"  I  hold  the  constant  regard  we  pay,  in  all  our  actions,  to  the  judg- 
ment of  others,  as  the  poison  of  our  peace,  our  reason,  and  our  virtue. 
...  He  who  differs  from  the  world  in  important  matters  should  the 
more  carefully  conform  to  it  in  indifferent  ones." — Richter. 

PPEARANCES  may  be  kept  up  in  a  right 
or  a  wrong  way,  and  from  a  high  or  a  low 
motive.  Few  people  can  afford  to  disregard 
appearances.  A  man  must  be  very  rich,  very 
clever,  or  very  useful  to  be  privileged  to  wear 
an  old  familiar  coat  and  a  "  shocking  bad  hat."  Ordinary 
people  by  being  shabby  may  lose  a  hundred  times  the  cost 


KEEPING  UP  APPEARANCES.  in 

of  a  good  suit  of  clothes.  Employers  like  the  people  in 
their  employment  to  keep  up  appearances  by  dressing  well. 
If  you  are  anxious  to  keep  in  a  good  situation,  dress  well. 

"  Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy, 
But  not  express'd  in  fancy ;  rich,  not  gaudy." 

When  a  man  in  receipt  of  a  good  salary  dresses  badly,  it 
excites  suspicion  as  much  as  extravagance  in  his  amusements 
and  great  display  in  dress.  In  one  case  he  is  suspected  of 
spending  his  own  money  ill,  in  the  other  of  using  that  of 
his  employer*  Those  who  keep  up  appearances  get  more 
assistance  of  every  kind.  It  is  easier  to  borrow  ten  or 
twenty  pounds  in  a  good  suit  of  clothes  than  five  shillings 
in  an  old  coat  and  shabby  hat.  "The  apparel  oft  proclaims 
the  man."  Strangers  must  form  their  opinion  of  strangers 
from  outward  and  visible  signs.  We  may  reconsider  our 
verdicts  upon  further  acquaintance;  but,  in  the  absence 
of  this,  what  can  we  think  when  first  introduced  to  a  man 
except  "  appearances  are  against  him,"  or  "  I  like  his  look  "  ? 
We  can  scarcely  lose  self-respect  and  hopefulness  so  long  as 
we  manage  to  keep  up  appearances. 

It  was  a  clever  woman  who  remarked  that  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  well  dressed  conferred  a  serenity  not  to  be 
derived  from  any  other  cause.  The  little  child  who  was 
asked  by  her  mother  why  she  wasn't  good,  "  like  Julia," 
spoke  unconsciously  a  great  moral  truth  when  she  replied : 
"  Perhaps  I  should  be  if  my  dress  had  little  pink  bows  all 
over  it." 

"  Rub  up  your  brasses,  Sally,"  said  a  husband  to  a  wife, 


112  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

who  being,  when  first  married,  clean  and  orderly,  was 
degenerating  into  a  slattern,  and  failing  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances within  the  pretty  cottage.  Every  wife  may  find 
"  brasses  to  rub  up ; "  and  if  her  own  spirits  are  gloomy 
enough  at  times,  and  things  go  wrong,  she  may  at  any  rate 
keep  the  externals  about  her  bright  for  the  sake  of  husband 
and  children. 

"  Brush  your  hair,  and  then  things  won't  look  so  bad," 
was  the  homely  advice  given  by  an  old  friend  to  a  woman 
whose  husband  had  lost  money  by  the  failure  of  a  bank, 
and  who  could  not  see  the  force  of  the  wife  sitting  untidy 
and  dishevelled,  with  unswept  floor  and  untidy  hearth,  and 
unprepared  dinner,  because  this  calamity  had  happened. 

An  old  colonel,  who  once  commanded  a  crack  cavalry 
regiment,  told  the  writer  with  pride  that  his  men  used  to 
look  as  if  they  believed  that  the  whole  town  belonged  to 
them.  This  was  keeping  up  the  appearance  of  the  regiment. 
If  you  carry  yourself  as  if  you  had  a  thousand  pounds  at 
your  command,  many  defects  and  blemishes  will  remain 
unnoticed.  Here  is  an  incident  taken  from  "  Six  Months 
in  the  Ranks;  or,  The  Gentleman  Private,"  which  illustrates 
the  effect,  or  want  of  effect,  of  not  keeping  up  appearances. 
"  One  evening,"  writes  the  Gentleman  Private,  "  I  had  gone 
into  a  shop  at  Sheerness  to  make  some  purchases,  when 
I  saw  a  mild-looking,  elderly  gentleman  standing  by  the 
counter,  while  two  young  ladies,  evidently  his  daughters 
were  buying  something.  I  paid  no  particular  attention  to 
him,  and  he  made  no  remark  to  me.  When  he  had  gone 
out  with  his  daughters,  the  shopwoman  laughed  and  asked 


KEEPING  UP  APPEARANCES.  113 

me  if  I  did  not  know  my  own  colonel.  '  Was  that  the 
colonel  ?  I  never  saw  him  before.  I  shouldn't  have  taken 
him  for  an  officer,  though,  by  his  shabby  hat  and  old 
Inverness.'  *  I  wondered  why  you  didn't  salute  him.  He 
doesn't  dress  very  well,  but  he's  a  very  nice  gentleman.'" 

The  same  writer  relates  how  a  well-conducted  fellow- 
soldier,  who  had  fallen  from  the  position  of  an  officer,  never 
got  the  chance  of  again  rising,  because  "  he  always  hanged 
down  his  head,  and  people  are  accustomed  to  treat  a  man 
much  according  to  the  respect  which  he  shows  for  himself." 
"Why  the  doose  do  he  hold  'is  'ead  down  like  that?" 
asked  the  sergeant-major,  angrily.  "  As  he's  been  an 
officer  he  ought  to  know  how  to  be'ave  'isself  better.  What 
use  'ud  he  be  as  a  non-commissioned  officer  if  he  didn't 
dare  look  'is  men  in  the  face  ?  If  a  man  wants  to  be  a 
soldier,  I  say,  let  him  cock  his  chin  up,  switch  his  stick 
about  a  bit,  and  give  a  crack  over  the  'ead  to  anybody  who 
comes  foolin'  round  'im,  else  he  migh'  just  as  well  be  a 
Methodist  parson." 

The  chorus  of  a  well-known  song  describes  a  class  of 
people  who  deserve  not  a  little  sympathy  and  respect — 

"  Too  proud  to  beg,  too  honest  to  steal, 
We  know  what  it  is  to  be  wanting  a  meal  j 
Our  tatters  and  rags  we  try  to  conceal ; 
We  belong  to  the  '  shabby  genteel."' 

The  struggles  of  such  persons  to  conceal  their  tatters  and 
rags,  and  generally  to  keep  up  appearances,  are  very  pathetic 
and  very  praiseworthy ;  and  yet  they  receive  but  little 
encouragement,  for  so-called  philanthropists  and  careless 

8 


1 14  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

almsgivers  are  frequently  guilty  of  the  cruelty  of  fostering 
the  good-for-nothing  at  the  expense  of  the  good.  When 
they  enter  a  house  empty  of  everything  except  filth,  or  see 
a  beggar  in  rags,  their  hearts  and  purses  open.  Professional 
mendicants,  understanding  this,  keep  up  the  appearance  of 
poverty — the  "  trappings  and  signs  of  woe."  Not  so  the 
hard-working  and  deserving  poor.  They  may  "have  that 
within  which  passeth  show*' — sad  hearts  and  hungry 
stomachs — but  they  brush  their  threadbare  clothes,  polish 
their  soleless  shoes,  and  do  all  in  their  power  to  keep  up 
appearances. 

How  often  do  we  seem  to  ourselves  to  be  keeping  up 
appearances  in  the  best  possible  way  when  we  are  doing  the 
reverse !  We  do  not  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us.  A 
story  is  told  of  the  painter  Zeuxis,  how  he  reproved  a  cer- 
tain high  priest  of  Great  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,  who 
discoursed  of  pictures  in  the  artist's  studio  with  so  reckless 
an  audacity  of  ignorance,  that  the  very  lads  who  were 
grinding  colours  could  not  refrain  from  giggling,  whereupon 
Zeuxis  said  to  his  too  eloquent  friend,  "As  long  as  you  kept 
from  talking  you  were  the  admiration  of  these  boys,  who 
were  all  wonder  at  your  rich  attire  and  the  number  of  your 
servants  ;  but  now  that  you  have  ventured  to  expatiate  upon 
the  arts  of  which  you  know  nothing,  they  are  laughing  at 
you  outright." 

Silence  may  hide  ignorance,  and  often  keeps  up  appear- 
ances much  better  than  speech.  Denouncing  the  vapid 
verbiage  of  shallow  praters,  Carlyle  exclaims,  "  Even 
N  Triviality  and  Imbecility  that  can  sit  silent,  how  respectable 


KEEPING  UP  APPEARANCES.  115 

are  they  in  comparison  ! "  It  was  said  of  one  who  was 
taken  for  a  great  man  so  long  as  he  held  his  peace,  "  This 
man  might  have  been  a  councillor  of  state  till  he  spoke ; 
but  having  spoken,  not  the  beadle  of  a  ward." 

"  Oh,  my  Antonio,  I  do  know  of  those, 
That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise 
For  saying  nothing." 

There  is  often  considerable  difference  of  opinion  as  to 
the  best  mode  of  keeping  up  appearances.  A  bricklayer 
once  came  into  a  witness  box  to  give  evidence  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves. "  Really,  witness,"  said  the  judge,  "  you  ought  to 
have  made  yourself  more  respectable-looking  before  coming 
into  court.  You  might  at  least  have  put  on  a  coat."  "  My 
lord,"  was  the  ready  answer,  "if  it  comes  to  that,  I  am  just 
as  properly  dressed  as  yourself.  You  came  into  court  with 
gown  and  wig,  which  are  your  working  clothes,  and  I  have 
come  in  mine." 

A  dishonest  keeping  up  of  appearances  in  business  is 
becoming  too  common.  If  this  continue,  it  will  ruin  Britain's 
commercial  reputation,  and  make  her  cease  to  be  "  Great." 
"Go  into  any  shop,"  said  Carlyle  to  a  friend,  "and  ye'll 
find  it  all  one  enormous  lie.  The  country  is  going  to  per- 
dition  at  a  frightful  pace.  I  give  it  about  fifty  years  to 
accomplish  its  fall."  Appearances  are  kept  up,  but  things 
are  not  what  they  seem.  Shoddy  is  sold  for  good  cloth. 
Wines  which  are  chemically  composed  in  England  keep  up 
the  appearance  of  being  the  juice  of  grapes  grown  in  France. 
The  prices  marked  on  articles  in  shop  windows  are  lower 


1 16  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

than  those  charged  inside.  "  Great  selling  off  sales  at  less 
than  cost  price,"  where  things  are  said  to  go  for  nothing, 
and  you  are  even  promised  a  "  present "  with  each  purchase, 
are,  to  speak  plainly,  humbug.  The  appearance  of  allowing 
discount  is  kept  up  in  some  places  by  first  adding  to  the 
x  price  and  then  subtracting  from  it  the  supposed  allowance. 

It  is  true  that  buyers  must  share  with  sellers  the  respon- 
sibility of  "  tricks  in  trade."  If  there  are  many  "  sharps  " 
in  the  world,  it  is  because  there  are  so  many  "  flats."  If 
purchasers  so  far  deceive  themselves  as  to  think  that  any- 
thing is  really  cheap,  and  that  "  bargains  "  are  possible, 
shopkeepers  will  pretend  to  make  great  sacrifices,  and  try 
to  keep  up  the  appearance  of  giving  things  for  almost 
nothing.  Why  should  a  thing  be  sold  below  its  value  ?  A 
really  honest  purchaser  would  refuse  to  accept  an  article  at 
a  price  less  than  he  knows  it  to  be  worth.  Those  who 
desire  "  bargains "  have  no  right  to  complain  if  they  are 
themselves  "  sold  "  into  the  bargain.  If  every  brick  in  the 
flimsy  houses  that  sham  architecture  is  running  up  in  our 
large  towns  "  is  a  lie,"  it  is  unfair  to  lay  on  the  builders  all 
the  blame.  Supply  is  produced  by  demand.  People  with 
small  incomes  insist  upon  having  cheap  houses  in  imitation 
of  a  style  which  can  only  be  built  with  good  materials  at  a 
considerable  cost.  They  have  their  reward,  and  can  rejoice 
in  keeping  up  appearances  at  the  expense  of  damp  walls, 
smoky  chimneys,  and  defective  drainage. 

"  Nought  shall  make  us  rue, 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true." 

On  the  other  hand,  when  England  or  any  other  country 


KEEPING  UP  APPEARANCES.  117 

becomes  false,  when  so  long  as  a  thing  looks  well  all  is 
considered  well,  when  keeping  up  appearances  is  common 
and  putting  conscience  into  work  rare — the  land  where  this 
has  become  "  tyrant  custom  "  is  under  a  cloud,  and  from 
out  the  cloud  the  voice  of  Eternal  Justice  will  soon  be  heard 
to  thunder — Ichabod,  "  The  Glory  is  departed."  Keeping 
up  appearances,  when  the  truth  is  not  in  us,  cannot  last 
very  much  longer  than  a  child's  game  of  make-believe.  It 
is  hard  to  personate  and  act  a  part  long ;  for  where  truth  is 
not  at  the  bottom,  nature  will  always  be  endeavouring  to 
return,  and  will  peep  out  and  betray  herself  one  time  or 
other. 


CHAPTER  XIL 


ABOUT   READING. 


"  A  natural  turn  for  reading  and  intellectual  pursuits  probably  pre- 
served me  from  the  moral  shipwreck,  so  apt  to  befall  those  who  are 
deprived  in  early  life  of  the  paternal  pilotage.  At  the  very  least,  my  books 
kept  me  aloof  from  the  ring,  the  dog-pit,  the  tavern,  and  the  saloon, 
with  their  degrading  orgies.  Later  experience  enables  me  to  depose  to 
the  comfort  and  blessing  that  literature  can  prove  in  seasons  of  sickness 
and  sorrow.  .  .  .  My  burden  has  been  greatly  lightened  by  a  load  of 
books.  The  manner  of  this  will  be  best  understood  from  a  feline  illus- 
tration. Everybody  has  heard  of  the  two  Kilkenny  cats,  who  devoured 
each  other  ;  but  it  is  not  so  generally  known  that  they  left  behind  them 
an  orphan  kitten,  which,  true  to  the  breed,  began  to  eat  itself  up,  till  it 
was  diverted  from  the  operation  by  a  mouse.  Now,  the  human  mind, 
under  vexation,  is  like  that  kitten,  for  it  is  apt  to  prey  upon  itself,  unless 
drawn  off  by  a  new  object ;  and  none  better  for  the  purpose  than  a 
book."— Hood. 

[ITHOUT  deciding  what  are  the  hundred  best 
books,  we  may  be  quite  sure  that  the  man  or 
woman  is  happy  who  has  a  taste  for  reading. 
It  guards  from  low  company  and  fleshly  sin  : 
it  smoothes  the  bed  of  sickness;  it  dries 
insensibly  the  tears  of  bereavement;  on  a  voyage  it  may 


ABOUT  READING.  1 19 

prevent  our  thinking  of  sea-sickness ;  it  beguiles  the  weary 
hours  of  penal  servitude ;  it  is,  after  true  religion  and  love, 
Heaven's  best  gift  to  man.  Evil  spirits,  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
were  driven  away  by  "  bell,  book,  and  candle ;  " — you  want 
but  two  of  these,  the  book  and  the  candle. 

Confucius  described  himself  as  a  man  who,  ''in  his  eager 
pursuit  of  knowledge,  forgot  his  food;  who,  in  his  joy  of  its 
attainment,  forgot  his  sorrows,  and  did  not  even  perceive  that 
old  age  was  coming  on." 

"If,"  said  Fendlon,  "the  riches  of  both  Indies,  if  the 
crowns  of  all  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  were  laid  at  my  feet, 
in  exchange  for  my  love  of  reading,  I  would  spurn  them  all." 
This  love  of  reading  is  sometimes  found  in  unexpected 
quarters.  Imagine  the  surprise  of  the  librarian  of  the 
Coventry  Free  Library  when  a  chimney-sweep  sends  for  the 
first  volume  of  Grote's  "  History  of  Greece."  Is  he  justified 
in  putting  a  costly  book  into  hands  so  far  from  clean  ?  Is 
there  any  mistake  as  to  the  spelling  of  the  subject  ?  His 
anxiety  is  succeeded  by  relief  when  in  due  time  the  first 
volume  is  returned  without  marks  of  any  kind ;  and  by 
surprise  when  the  second  and  each  of  the  twelve  in  suc- 
cession is  duly  taken  out  and  read  "  The  true  university 
of  these  days  is  a  collection  of  books,"  and  there  is  no  reason 
why  sweeps,  like  other  respectable  people,  should  not 
graduate  in  it.  Thanks  to  Free  Libraries,  and  the  greater 
facilities  that  now  exist  for  cheap  publishing,  the  whole  range 
of  English  literature  is  open  to  almost  any  working  man  who 
cares  to  get  at  it.  And  we  think  that  the  great  readers  of 
the  next  generation  will  be,  not  our  lawyers  or  doctors, 


120  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

shopkeepers  or  manufacturers,  but  the  labourer  and  mechanic. 
The  former  work  mainly  with  their  heads,  which  are  too 
exhausted  for  reading,  and  whatever  leisure  time  they  have 
must  be  devoted  to  air  and  exercise.  The  labourer  and 
mechanic,  on  the  contrary,  besides  being  occupied  often  tor 
much  shorter  hours,  have  in  their  work-time  taken  sufficient 
bodily  exercise,  and  can  therefore  give  any  leisure  they  have 
to  reading  and  study. 

Book  readers,  however,  are  few  as  compared  with  those 
who  read  the  newspaper.  What  an  instrument  of  education 
it  is  !  A  nation  with  many  papers  and  magazines  must  be 
well  informed,  their  circulation  can  almost  be  taken  as  an 
exponent  of  its  intelligence.  Not  only  does  a  first-class 
journal  contain  a  record  of  events,  but  the  best  thought  of 
the  day.  What  a  noted  man  may  say  to-night  to  a  small 
audience,  to-morrow  will  be  read  by  millions  all  over  the  land. 
The  substance  of  whole  volumes  is  published  frequently  long 
before  its  appearance  in  book  form.  Much  of  the  best  poetry, 
romance,  biography,  criticism,  discussion  of  every  subject  and 
information  on  every  topic  appears  in  our  newspapers  and 
magazines ;  and  scholars  and  men  of  science,  as  well  as 
general  readers,  must  read  them  or  be  left  behind. 

Loving  reading  ourselves,  and  rejoicing  to  see  the  habit 
generally  prevailing,  we  desire  to  point  out  certain  faults  and 
weaknesses  that  ought  to  be  guarded  against  by  the  "  general 
reader."  The  bad  habit  most  commonly  indulged  in  by 
readers  of  the  present  day  is  what  may  be  called  book-tippling. 
It  is  a  vice  as  destructive  of  the  health  of  our  minds  as  taking 
"  nips  "  all  through  the  day  is  of  our  bodily  health.  One 


ABOUT  READING.  121 

knows  people  who  are  heavy  and  stupid  from  undigested 
learning  as  others  are  from  overfulness.  For  the  last  few 
years  the  annual  production  of  new  books  in  Great  Britain 
has  been  at  the  rate  of  from  two  to  three  thousand.  How 
many  of  all  these  must  I  read  in  order  to  keep  abreast  with 
the  age  ?  How  shall  I  choose  the  good  and  refuse  the  evil 
and  worthless  ?  In  reference  to  this  enormous  issue  from 
the  teeming  press,  it  is  a  consoling  thought  that  many  new 
books  may  be  passed  over  without  any  loss.  Indeed  we  can 
hardly  read  too  little  of  them.  They  are  not  written  by 
thinkers,  and  therefore  they  cannot  awaken  thought.  "  There 
^re  men,"  says  Cervantes,  "  who  will  make  you  books  and 
turn  them  loose  in  the  world  with  as  much  despatch  as  they 
would  a  dish  of  fritters."  Busy  people,  who  have  no  time 
for  such  reading,  miss  no  instruction. 

We  would  suggest  that  it  is  more  improving  to  read  a  few 
standard  works,  and  to  read  them  over  and  over  until  they 
have  entered  into  our  souls,  than  to  skim  over  all  the  new 
books  of  the  season  only  to  discover  from  personal  expe- 
ience  that  they  are  not  worth  reading.  Leave  it  to  the 
intellectually  indolent  to  devour  without  digestion  each 
newest  thing  in  literature.  From  the  old  familiar  faces  of  a 
few  choice  books  that,  like  true  friends,  have  made  us  more 
enlightened  and  more  hopeful,  thinking  minds  will  learn 
most.  Such  a  book  should  be  always  at  hand  to  take  up  in 
odd  moments.  If  we  only  keep  company  with  the  best  books 
we  shall  have  time  to  give  an  hour  every  day — and  as  far  as 
possible  it  should  be  at  the  same  hour — to  such  reading,  and 
in  reference  to  intellectual  food,  "a  little  at  a  time  taker 


122  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

regularly  "  is  a  good  rule.  It  is,  however,  a  great  mistake, 
when  establishing  a  popular  library,  to  choose  books  of  too 
thoughtful  or  solid  a  character.  It  is  vain  to  go  on  the 
principle  of  collecting  books  that  people  ought  to  read,  and 
afterwards  trying  to  coax  them  to  read  them.  The  only 
practical  method  is  to  begin  by  supplying  books  that  people 
already  want  to  read  and  afterwards  to  do  whatever  shall  be 
found  possible  to  elevate  their  reading  tastes.  A  habit  of 
reading  is  more  necessary  than  any  particular  line  of  reading, 
because  it  is  the  one  indispensable  previous  requisite. 

Reading  for  display  is  a  great  hindrance  to  intellectual 
progress.  The  genuine  reader  has  very  little  sympathy  with 
those  who  look  into  books  just  to  have  to  say  that  they  read 
them,  who  use  them  as  some  men  do  lords — learn  their  titles 
and  then  brag  of  their  acquaintance.  To  such  persons  it  is 
as  necessary  that  a  book  should  be  new  as  that  it  should  be 
bound  in  coloured  cloth.  Recommend  to  them  the  best 
book  that  came  out  last  year,  and  it  will  be  deemed  too 
antiquated.  They  will  say,  "We  had  that  long  ago ;  I  want 
a  new  book."  They  would  as  soon  wear  a  coat  of  a  pattern 
fifty  years  old  as  read  a  book  in  the  least  old-fashioned. 
Certainly  reading  from  any  motive  is  better  than  satisfied 
ignorance,  but  to  read  for  ostentation  is  a  motive  morally 
and  intellectually  unsound.  Morally,  it  is  an  affectation  of 
interest  we  do  not  feel.  Intellectually,  it  is  no  more  know- 
ledge than  what  is  "  crammed  "  for  an  examination  is  know- 
ledge. The  conversation  of  a  man  who  reads  for  improve- 
ment or  pleasure  will  be  flavoured  by  his  reading ;  but  it  will 
not  be  about  his  reading. 


ABOUT  READING.  123 

On  no  subject  has  the  opinion  of  serious  people  changed 
of  late  years  more  than  on  that  of  novel-reading.  Religious 
people,  like  Lord  Macaulay's  father,  believed  that  it  was 
almost  wicked  to  read  even  a  good  novel.  In  Trevelyan's 
"Life  of  Lord  Macaulay,"  these  words  of  his  sister  are  quoted 
in  reference  to  the  books  read  in  her  father's  household. 
"Poetry  and  novels,  except  during  Tom's  holidays,  were 
forbidden  in  the  daytime,  and  stigmatized  as  'drinking 
drams  in  the  morning.'"  Mr.  Macaulay  disapproved  of 
novel-reading,  but,  too  indulgent  to  insist  on  having  his  own 
way  in  any  but  essential  matters,  he  lived  to  see  himself  the 
head  of  a  family  in  which  novels  were  more  read  and  better 
remembered  than  in  any  household  of  the  United  Kingdom. 
The  first  warning  of  the  troubles  that  were  in  store  for  him 
was  an  anonymous  letter,  addressed  to  him  as  editor  of  The 
Christian  Observer,  defending  works  of  fiction,  and  eulogiz- 
ing Fielding  and  Smollett.  This  he  incautiously  inserted  in 
his  periodical  and  brought  down  upon  himself  the  most 
violent  objurgations  from  scandalized  contributors,  one  of 
whom  informed  the  public  that  he  had  committed  the 
obnoxious  number  to  the  flames  and  should  cease  to  take 
in  the  magazine. 

To  read  novels  in  the  hours  that  should  be  devoted  to 
study  or  business  is  certainly  as  bad  as  drinking  drams  in 
the  morning.  Most  people,  however,  have  now  come  to 
the  conclusion  that,  in  their  place,  works  of  fiction  are  of 
use  in  taking  us  out  of  ourselves,  in  showing  us  how  others 
live,  in  feeding  those  imaginative  faculties  which  God  has 
given  us  to  increase  our  enjoyment.  The  novel  may  be  a 


124  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN.9 

blessing  to  those  in  distress  as  great  as  is  chloroform.  To 
please  is  to  serve  ;  and  so  far  from  its  being  difficult  to 
instruct  while  you  amuse,  it  is  difficult  to  do  the  one 
thoroughly  without  the  other. 

But  obeying  the  rule  to  "  choose  an  author  as  we  would 
a  friend,"  we  should  avoid  those  novels  after  reading  which 
we  rise  up  worse  rather  than  better  men.  The  books  to  be 
shunned  are  those  which  make  us  discontented  with  our  lot 
in  life  ;  which  induce  us  to  think  lightly  of  crime  and  sin  by 
giving  nice  names  to  ugly  things;  which  suggest  unclean 
thoughts  and  rouse  unholy  passions  which  are  profane  and 
irreverent.  As  the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the  eating,  so 
it  is  from  the  effect  that  a  book  has  on  us  that  we  can  pro- 
nounce it  to  be  good  or  bad.  What  injury  we  may  receive 
from  even  a  moment  with  a  bad  book ! 

A  lad  once  showed  to  another  a  book  full  of  words  and 
pictures  of  impurity.  He  only  had  it  in  his  hands  for  a  few 
moments.  Later  on  in  life  he  held  high  office  in  the 
Church,  and  years  and  years  afterwards  told  a  friend  that 
he  would  have  given  half  he  possessed  had  he  never  seen  it, 
for  its  impure  images,  at  the  most  holy  times,  would  some- 
times arise  unbidden  to  his  mind. 

When  one  visits  a  large  library  like  that  of  the  British 
Museum  the  enormous  number  of  books  bewilders.  How, 
we  think,  can  they  all  be  used  ?  If  a  reader  were  to  go 
from  one  book  to  another  as  a  bee  from  flower  to  flower  he 
would  gain  very  little  knowledge.  The  mere  book- taster  is 
as  ignorant  of  literature  as  the  globe-trotter  is  of  the  countries 
through  which  he  rushes  just  to  have  to  say  that  he  was 


ABOUT  READING.  125 

in  them.  When  many  books  are  at  our  disposal,  the  best 
way  is,  discarding  all  other  subjects,  to  read  up  that  one  in 
which  we  are  most  interested.  It  is  much  more  profitable 
to  read  everything  we  can  about  something,  than  to  read 
something  about  everything.  Each  reader  will  perhaps 
choose  best  his  own  method,  but  he  who  cannot  be  called  a 
methodical  reader  in  any  sense  will  remain 

"»  "  The  bookful  blockhead,  ignorantly  read, 

With  loads  of  learned  lumber  in  his  head." 

And  this  plan  of  reading  up  one  special  subject  of  interest 
at  a  time  enables  us  to  remember  what  we  read.  We  retain 
longest  in  memory  what  we  attend  to  most,  and  our  atten- 
tion is  seldom  given  where  we  are  uninterested.  This  is 
the  element  of  truth  in  that  advice  of  Dr.  Johnson,  which 
should  be  carefully  concealed  from  the  ordinary  schoolboy. 
"  For  general  improvement,  a  man  should  read  whatever  his 
immediate  inclination  prompts  him  to ;  though,  to  be  sure, 
if  a  man  has  a  science  to  learn,  he  must  regularly  and 
resolutely  advance.  What  we  read  with  inclination  makes 
a  strong  impression.  If  we  read  without  inclination,  half 
the  mind  is  employed  in  fixing  the  attention,  so  there  is  but 
half  to  be  employed  on  what  we  read."  We  should  from 
time  to  time  make  an  analysis  of  the  books  we  read.  A 
glance  at  this  will  recall  to  memory  the  substance  of  them. 
Besides,  if  reading  makes  a  "  full  man,"  writing  is  required 
to  make  him  "  exact."  After  closing  a  book,  if  we  attempt 
to  write  an  account  of  it  we  shall  generally  find  that  all  we 
have  gained  is  a  general  impression.  The  habit  of  writing 


126  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

notes  and  analyses  of  our  reading  teaches  accuracy,  by 
forcing  us  to  enter  into  particulars  and  avoid  vague 
generalities. 

What  to  read ;  how  to  read ;  where  to  obtain  books — 
these  are  very  practical  questions  at  the  present  time. 
What  is  the  use  of  teaching  every  one  to  read  unless  facility 
for  obtaining  books  and  guidance  in  the  choice  of  them  are 
also  provided  ?  Indeed,  if  bad  books  and  periodicals  are 
much  more  easily  procured  than  wholesome  ones,  the  spread 
of  education  is  a  questionable  advantage.  Board  Schools 
must  therefore  be  supplemented  by  the  establishment  of 
free  public  libraries  on  a  large  scale.  Nor  are  we  from  this 
point  of  view  to  esteem  less  than  very  great  benefactors  of 
our  race  those  Apostles  of  Light  who  first  introduced  cheap 
literature  of  an  innocent,  and  reverse  of  "  penny  dreadful," 
description. 

Great  readers  ought  to  be  on  their  guard  against  the'  error 
of  despising  and  rejecting  the  many  means  of  culture  that 
exist  apart  from  books.  Far  too  much  value  is  often 
attached  to  reading  as  a  means  of  cultivation.  Perhaps, 
indeed,  there  were  almost  as  many  wise  people  when  reading 
was  a  rare  accomplishment  as  there  are  now.  When  book- 
writers  did  not  think  for  "  the  people,"  probably  more 
persons  thought  for  themselves.  "  Books,"  said  Socrates, 
"cannot  be  interrogated,  cannot  answer;  therefore  they 
cannot  teach.  We  can  only  learn  from  them  what  we  knew 
before."  This  may  be  an  exaggerated  statement,  but  the 
truth  it  contains  should  be  noted  by  those  readers  who 
refuse  to  learn  or  believe  anything  unless  they  see  it  in  print. 


ABO  UT  READING.  127 

Is  not  this  equivalent  to  shutting  our  own  eyes  and  getting 
another  to  see  for  us  ?  We  should  never  despair  of  self- 
culture,  because  we  cannot  be  great  readers,  for  experience 
and  observation,  rather  than  books,  are  our  best  instructors. 

A  young  lady  who  asked  Carlyle  what  books  she  should 
read  received  the  following  answer :  "  Read  me,  read 
Goethe,  and  if  you  will  be  a  good  girl,  and  feel  a  call  to  do 
so,  read  all  the  good  books  you  can  come  at ;  and  carefully 
avoid  (like  poison)  all  the  bad,  so  far  as  you  can  discrimi- 
nate them,  which  will  be  more  and  more,  the  more  faithfully 
you  try.  Happy  is  he  (still  more  is  she)  who  has  got  to 
know  a  bad  book  by  the  very  flavour,  and  to  fly  from  it 
(and  from  the  base,  vain,  and  unprofitable  soul  that  wrote 
it)  as  from  a  thing  requiring  to  be  left  at  once  to  leeward  ! 
And  let  me  tell  you  further,  pretty  little  Juliette,  reading, 
even  of  the  best,  is  but  one  of  the  sources  of  wisdom,  and 
by  no  manner  of  means  the  most  important.  The  most 
important,  all-including,  is,  that  you  love  wisdom  loyally  in 
your  heart  of  hearts,  and  that  wherever  you  learn  from  a 
book  or  elsewhere  a  thing  credibly  wise,  you  don't  lose  time 
in  calling  or  thinking  it  '  wise/  but  proceed  at  once  to  see 
how,  with  your  best  discernment,  energy,  and  caution,  you 
can  manage  to  do  it !  That  is  the  rule  of  rules  :  that  latter. 
May  your  years  be  many,  and  bright  with  modest  nobleness; 
1  happy '  enough  they  will  be  in  such  case — and  so  adieu, 
my  pretty  child. — Yours  truly,  T.  CARLYLE." 

We  conclude  with  advice  given  by  two  very  bookish  men 
on  this  subject  of  reading.  "Books  are  pleasant,"  says 
Montaigne,  "  but  if  by  being  over  studious  we  impair  our 


*28  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN.9 

health,  and  spoil  our  good-humour,  two  of  the  best  pieces 
we  have,  let  us  give  it  over ;  I  for  my  part  am  one  of  those 
who  think  that  no  fruit  derived  from  them  can  recompense 
so  great  a  loss."  Lord  Bacon  well  sums  up  in  these  words  : 
"  Read  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and 
take  for  granted,  nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse,  but  to  weigh 
and  consider.  Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be 
swallowed,  and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested ;  that 
is,  some  books  are  to  be  read  only  in  parts ;  others  to  be 
read,  but  not  curiously;  and  some  few  are  to  be  read 
wholly,  and  with  diligence  and  attention."  There  is  nothing 
to  add  to  this  except  that  some  books  (probably  including 
the  present  one)  are  to  be  thrown  into  the  fire. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

CONVERSATION. 

l<  Would  you  both  please,  and  be  instructed  too, 
Watch  well  the  rage  of  shining  to  subdue  ; 
Hear  every  man  upon  his  favourite  theme, 
And  ever  be  more  knowing  than  you  seem. 
The  lowest  genius  will  afford  some  light*, 
Or  give  a  hint  that  had  escaped  your  sight." 

— Stilling  fleets 

"It  appears  to  me,  that  since  I  have  been  sitting  here,  I  have  heard 
a  great  deal  of  vain  and  unprofitable  conversation." — Commencement 
of  Gobbet? s  first  speech  in  Parliament. 

is  frequently  remarked  that  the  art  of  con- 
versation is  lost ;  that  everything  is  printed 
nowadays  and  nothing  said ;  that  such  good 
talkers  and  good  listeners  as  Dr.  Johnson  and 
his  friends  are  extinct  creatures.  We  do  not 
think  that  these  laments  are  justified.  It  is  of  course  true 
that  the  printing-press  has  in  a  measure  superseded  the 

9 


J  30  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

tongue,  but  not  altogether ;  for  the  living  voice  of  man  has 
a  power  of  charming  and  influencing  that  can  never  be  exer- 
cised by  dead  letters.  It  is  true  we  do  not  now  make  a  busi- 
ness of  conversation  and  stake  our  reputation  on  a  mot,  as  did 
Dr.  Johnson's  contemporaries;  but  perhaps  this  fact  increases 
rather  than  diminishes  the  charm  of  modern  talk.  It  is 
more  simple  and  natural,  less  dogmatic  and  egotistical.  In 
our  pleasant  chats  at  afternoon  teas  and  tennis-parties  we 
can  well  dispense  with  stilted  lectures  of  the  "  Sir,  said  Dr. 
Johnson"  type.  But  though  we  are  by  no  means  destitute 
of  conversational  powers,  there  are  certain  rules  as  regards 
talking  which  should  be  better  observed  in  our  social  inter- 
course. First,  we  must  distinguish  between  conversation 
and  talkativeness,  which  last  is,  according  to  Bishop  Butler, 
a  "disposition  to  be  talking,  abstracted  from  the  considera- 
tion of  what  is  said,  with  very  little  or  no  regard  to,  or 
thought  of  doing,  either  good  or  harm."  The  good  man's 
patience  almost  forsakes  him  when  he  thinks  of  what  he 
has  often  had  to  endure  from  vain,  empty,  tiresome  talkers, 
who  took  advantage  of  his  silence  in  order  to  indulge  their 
own  loquacity.  He  thus  speaks  in  his  famous  sermon  on 
the  government  of  the  tongue  : 

"The  Wise  Man  observes  that  there  is  a  time  to  speak 
and  a  time  to  keep  silence.  One  meets  with  people  in  the 
world  who  seem  never  to  have  made  the  last  of  these  obser- 
vations. And  yet  these  great  talkers  do  not  at  all  speak 
from  their  having  anything  to  say,  as  every  sentence  shows, 
but  only  from  their  inclination  to  be  talking.  Their  con- 
versation is  merely  an  exercise  of  the  tongue;  no  other 


CONVERSATION.  131 

human  faculty  has  any  share  in  it.  It  is  strange  these 
persons  can  help  reflecting  that  unless  they  have  in  truth  a 
superior  capacity,  and  are  in  an  extraordinary  manner 
furnished  for  conversation,  if  they  are  entertaining,  it  is  at 
their  own  expense.  Is  it  possible  that  it  should  never  come 
into  people's  thoughts  to  suspect  whether  or  no  it  be  to 
their  advantage  to  show  so  very  much  of  themselves  ?  '  O 
that  you  would  altogether  hold  your  peace,  and  it  should  be 
your  wisdom/  " 

It  is  said  that  Swift,  at  an  evening  party,  on  one  occa- 
sion retired  to  a  corner  of  the  room  and  commenced  noting 
down  the  talk  of  the  company.  Being  asked  what  he  was 
doing,  he  produced  the  verbatim  report  of  the  conversation 
which  had  just  taken  place.  Each  speaker  felt  lamentably 
chagrined  at  the  superficial  and  trifling  character  of  his 
utterances.  But  the  conversation  of  great  talkers  is  seldom 
only  superficial  and  trifling.  A  Frenchman,  speaking  of  a 
person  known  to  his  comrades,  said,  "  His  mouth  costs  him. 
nothing,  for  he  always  opens  it  at  the  expense  of  others." 
This  is  the  natural  consequence  of  talkativeness.  As  people 
cannot  go  on  for  ever  talking  of  nothing,  when  impersonal 
matters  are  wanting,  or  are  thought  less  piquant,  they  begin 
to  speak  of  persons,  which  means  defamation,  scandal, 
divulging  of  secrets.  Even  when  they  speak  well  of  any  one, 
these  babblers  do  harm,  for  their  exaggerated  and  fanciful 
speech  "  destroys  and  perverts  a  certain  equity  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  society  to  be  observed — namely,  that  praise 
and  dispraise,  a  good  or  bad  character,  should  always  be 
bestowed  according  to  desert." 


I32  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

Nor  are  great  talkers  long  before  they  swerve  from  truth, 
or  at  least  from  strict  accuracy  of  statement.  When  they 
have  exhausted  their  stock  of  facts  they  invent  in  order  to 
keep  up  the  interest  of  their  talk;  and,  when  they  have 
heard  the  least  imperfect  hint,  they  add  the  circumstances 
of  time  and  place  and  other  matters  to  make  out  their  story, 
and  give  the  appearance  of  probability  to  it.  In  a  row  of 
twelve  houses,  the  lady  at  No.  i  mentioned  at  table  one 
day  that  her  old  friends,  the  Baileys,  were  coming  in  a  few 
days  to  see  her.  The  servant  at  No.  i  told  it  in  the  after- 
noon to  the  servant  at  No.  2  ;  and  the  servant  at  No.  2 
told  it  to  the  servant  at  No.  3,  only  changing  the  word 
Baileys  to  bailiffs  :  "  No.  i  are  expecting  the  bailiffs  soon." 
It  is  always  easy  to  find  reasons  for  anything;  so  Nos.  4 
and  5  gave  the  explanation :  it  was  because  the  master  of 
No.  i  was  so  dreadfully  extravagant.  But  extravagance  is 
not  generally  a  solitary  sin,  so  the  servants  at  Nos.  6  and  7 
had  no  difficulty  in  making  the  slight  addition  that  he 
treated  his  wife  so  badly.  No.  8  reported  that  the  wife 
was  very  ill,  and  when  the  report  got  to  No.  12  the  bailiffs 
were  said  to  have  arrived  and  taken  full  possession.  And  the 
remains  of  so  tragic  a  story  every  imaginative  reader  can 
finish  for  himself. 

It  is  far  safer,  then,  to  avoid  personalities  in  our  conversa- 
tion. But  this  is  by  no  means  an  easy  thing  to  do ;  for  the 
love  of  personalities  is  almost  universal — a  love  seen  in  the 
child  who  asks  you  to  tell  him  a  story,  meaning  thereby  some- 
body's adventure  ;  a  love  testified  by  the  interest  adults  take 
in  reading  biographies;  a  love  gratified  by  police  reports 


CONVERSATION.  133 

court  news,  divorce  cases,  accounts  of  accidents,  and  lists  of 
births,  marriages,  and  deaths ;  a  love  displayed  even  by 
conversations  in  the  street,  where  fragments  of  dialogue 
heard  in  passing  show  that  mostly  between  men,  and  always 
between  women,  the  personal  pronouns  recur  every  instant. 
Having  this  lively  interest  in  our  neighbours'  affairs,  we  can 
with  difficulty  avoid  gossiping  about  them.  But  the  habit 
is  nevertheless  dangerous.  It  creates  enemies,  and  separates 
friends.  We  meet  an  acquaintance  in  the  street  from  whom 
we  parted  but  yesterday  on  the  most  friendly  terms.  We 
wonder  why  we  are  passed  by  with  an  infinitesimally  small 
nod  of  acknowledgment,  or  perhaps  with  no  recognition  at 
all.  If  we  deem  it  worth  while  to  investigate  the  cause  of 
this  coldness,  we  shall  generally  discover  that  some  one  has 
been  biassing  the  mind  of  our  friend  against  us.  A  few 
rash  words  will  set  a  family,  a  neighbourhood,  a  nation  by 
the  ears ;  they  have  often  done  so.  Half  the  lawsuits  and 
half  the  wars  have  been  brought  about  by  talking  about 
people  instead  of  about  things.  "  Where  no  wood  is,  there 
the  fire  goeth  out:  so  where  there  is  no  tale-bearer,  the 
strife  ceaseth." 

This  sort  of  personal  talk  is  not  only  wrong  but  stupid. 
It  is  generally  indulged  in  by  persons  devoid  of  brains, 
education,  and  culture.  People  who  read  and  think,  prefer 
to  talk  of  ideas  and  things.  They  live  in  a  high  intellectual 
atmosphere,  where  chit-chat  about  their  neighbours'  incomes, 
quarrels,  dress,  and  servants — the  little  wearisome  jealousies 

of  Mr.  or  Mrs.  A in  reference  to  Mr.  or  Mrs.  B 

does  not  enter. 


134  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

The  temptation  to  sin  against  good-nature  and  good  taste 
in  conversation  for  the  sake  of  raising  a  laugh  and  gaining 
admiration  is  a  very  strong  one  in  the  case  of  those  who 
have  been  gifted  with  wit  and  humour.  But  it  is  the  abuse 
of  these  noble  gifts  rather  than  their  use  that  leads  astray, 
On  this  point  we  may  quote  the  following  words  :  "  When 
wit,"  says  Sydney  Smith,  "is  combined  with  sense  and 
information ;  when  it  is  softened  by  benevolence  and  re- 
strained by  principle ;  when  it  is  in  the  hands  of  a  man 
who  can  use  it  and  despise  it ;  who  can  be  witty,  and  some- 
thing more  than  witty ;  who  loves  honour,  justice,  decency, 
good-nature,  morality,,  and  religion  ten  thousand  times  better 
than  wit — wit  is  then  a  beautiful  and  delightful  part  of  our 
nature." 

If  we  would  be  agreeable  and  improving  companions,  we 
must  be  good  listeners  as  well  as  good  talkers,  and  carefully 
observe  certain  occasions  of  silence.  "The  occasions  of 
silence,"  says  Bishop  Butler,  "  are  obvious — namely,  when 
a  man  has  nothing  to  say,  or  nothing  but  what  is  better 
unsaid ;  better  either  in  regard  to  some  particular  persons 
he  is  present  with,  or  from  its  being  an  interruption  to  con- 
versation of  a  more  agreeable  kind ;  or  better,  lastly,  with 
regard  to  himself." 

Nowhere  is  there  room  for  the  display  of  good  manners 
so  much  as  in  conversation.  It  is  a  part  of  good  manners 
not  to  talk  too  much.  Remembering  that  the  first  syllable 
of  the  word  conversation  is  con  (with),  that  it  means  talking 
with  another,  we  should  abstain  from  lecturing,  and  be  as 
ready  to  listen  as  to  talk.  Our  anecdote  or  sharp  reply  will 


CONVERSATION.  135 

keep,  or  need  not  find  utterance  at  all ;  so  we  are  not  under 
the  necessity  of  interrupting  our  companion,  and  voting  him 
by  our  looks  a  bore,  or  at  least  an  interruption  to  our  own 
much  better  remarks.  But  besides  the  rule,  that  we  should 
not  be  impatient  to  get  in  our  word,  that  a  few  brilliant 
flashes  of  silence  should  occur  in  our  conversation,  another  rule 
is,  not  to  take  for  our  theme — ourselves.  We  must  remem- 
ber that,  as  a  rule,  we  and  our  concerns  can  be  of  no  more  im- 
portance to  other  men  than  they  and  their  concerns  are  to  us. 
Every  one  will  understand  from  painful  experience  what 
is  meant  by  a  bore,  though  it  is  not  very  easy  to  describe 
the  creature.  A  bore  is  a  heavy,  pompous,  meddling  person 
who  harps  on  one  string,  occupies  an  undue  share  of  con- 
versation, and  says  things  in  ten  words  which  required  only 
two ;  all  the  time  being  evidently  convinced  that  he  is 
making  a  great  impression.  "  It  is  easy,"  says  Sydney 
Smith,  "  to  talk  of  carnivorous  animals  and  beasts  of  prey  ; 
but  does  such  a  man,  who  lays  waste  a  whole  party  of 
civilized  beings  by  prosing,  reflect  upon  the  joys  he  spoils 
and  the  misery  he  creates  in  the  course  of  his  life  ?  and  that 
any  one  who  listens  to  him  through  politeness,  would  prefer 
toothache  or  earache  to  his  conversation  ?  Does  he  con- 
sider the  extreme  uneasiness  which  ensues  when  the  com- 
pany have  discovered  a  man  to  be  an  extremely  absurd 
person,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
convey  to  the  terrible  being,  by  words  or  manner,  the  most 
distant  suspicion  of  the  discovery?  And  then,  who  punishes 
this  bore  ?  What  sessions  and  what  assizes  for  him  ?  When 
the  judges  have  gone  their  vernal  and  autumnal  rounds,  the 


136  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

sheep-slealer  disappears,  the  swindler  has  been  committed 
to  penal  servitude.  But  after  twenty  years  of  crime,  the 
bore  is  discovered  in  the  same  house,  in  the  same  attitude, 
eating  the  same  soup,  still  untried,  unpunished." 

A  youthful  compositor,  in  setting  some  "  copy,"  came  to 

the  sentence  :  " didn't  say  a  word  for  an  hour,"  the  first 

word  having  been  cut  off  in  clipping  from  the  paper  where  it 
first  appeared.  He  took  it  to  the  foreman  to  supply  the  word. 
"  What  shall  I  put  in  there  ?  "  he  asked,  when  the  foreman 
read  it.  "  Put  in  '  he,'  of  course ;  you  don't  suppose  '  she  ' 
would  fit  in  such  a  sentence  as  that,  do  you  ? "  was  the 
answer. 

In  all  ages,  women's  conversation  has  been  made  a  subject 
for  ridicule.  They  are  said  to  talk  too  much,  to  have 
venomous  spiteful  tongues,  to  be  addicted  to  nagging,  to 
disdain  argumentation  and  even  sense  in  their  talk.  For 
ourselves  we  believe  that  the  sins  of  the  tongue  are  com- 
mitted about  equally  by  both  sexes.  Of  course  women  have 
more  talking  to  do  than  men  have,  for  social  intercourse  is 
mainly  indebted  to  them  for  its  existence.  And  their  desire 
to  please  in  society  may  sometimes  tempt  women  to  talk  too 
much  j  if,  indeed,  there  can  be  too  much  of  conversation 
so  sympathetic,  humorous,  and  full  of  nice  distinctions  as 
is  that  of  women  whom  all  agree  to  call  "charming."  Let 
not  the  cynic,  who,  if  he  has  himself  never  said  a  foolish 
thing,  has  perhaps  never  done  a  wise  one,  quote,  in  reference 
to  the  conversation  of  such  women,  Pope's  lines  : 

"  Words  are  like  leaves;  and  where  they  most  abound, 
Much  fruit  of  sense  beneath  is  rarely  found." 


CONVERSATION.  137 


What  are  and  what  are  not  "  women's  rights,"  is  a  point 
much  disputed ;  but  that  it  is  their  duty  to  cultivate  the  art 
of  conversation,  none  will  question.  But  as  the  hearts  of 
women  are  kind  and  sympathetic,  so  have  they  no  excuse 
for  crushing  little  sensibilities,  violating  little  proprieties, 
and  overlooking  little  discriminations ;  in  a  word,  for  com- 
mitting those  faults  which  make  the  conversation  of  ill- 
natured  people  so  dispiriting  and  painful. 

The  aim  of  every  talker  should  be  never  to  be  long  and 
never  to  be  wrong.  And  the  only  way  we  can  approximate 
to  this  perfection  of  sociableness  is  to  cultivate  both  our 
heads  and  hearts.  The  conversation  of  really  cultured 
people  is  never  vulgar  and  never  empty ;  more  than  this,  it 
is  free  from  envy,  hatred,  and  all  uncharitableness. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


OUR   SHAKESPERIAN   READINGS. 

"The  Play's  the  thing."—  Hamlet,  Act  ii.  Sc.  2. 

"  Well  spoken  ;  with  good  accent,  and  good  discretion."  — 


HE  conversation  of  the  society  of  a  provincial 
town,  such  as  that  in  which  I  am  now  writ- 
ing, is  too  often  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable. 
It  is  stale  and  flat  because  we  live  in  little 
sets,  seeing  the  same  faces  every  day,  and 
using  nearly  the  same  words.  And  our  words  are  very 
often  unprofitable,  and  even  mischievous,  because  they  are, 
as  a  rule,  spoken  in  reference  to  persons.  It  is  a  garrison 
town,  and  the  writer  lives  in  a  military  set.  Here,  scarcely 
anything  is  talked  of  except  personalities.  A  regiment  is 
such  a  small  world,  that  it  is  impossible  to  indulge  in  the 
luxury  of  privacy.  Every  one  knows  too  much  of  every  one. 
The  amount  of  money  possessed  by  each  officer,  and  the 
last  new  dress  of  his  wife,  are  as  well  known  to  his  com- 
panions as  the  regimental  facings.  At  last  we  wearied  of 


OUR  SHAKESPER1AN  READINGS.  139 

grinding  out  the  same  tunes,  as  on  a  barrel  organ,  about  our 
neighbours'  concerns.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  we  fancied  we 
had  a  small  amount  of  intellectual  power  over  and  above 
that  possessed  by  an  organ-grinder's  monkey.  "  Why,  then," 
we  ask  ourselves,  "should  our  visits  to  each  other  be  so 
wearisome  and  so  unworthy  of  cultured,  or  even  of  half- 
cultured,  beings  ?  "  We  had,  of  course,  all  read  Shakespere 
in  our  youth  ;  but  might  it  not  be  as  well  to  read  again  the 
"  myriad-minded  poet "  ?  One  lady,  who  had  some  organiz- 
ing ability,  started  a  Shakesperian  reading-club. 

In  this  chapter  we  propose  to  give  an  account  of  our 
struggles  towards  the  light  of  rational  sociability,  out  of  the 
wearisome  darkness  of  tittle-tattle  gossiping.  In  large  cities 
mental  food  can  easily  be  obtained.  We  desire  to  encourage 
those  who  live  in  small  provincial  towns  and  country  places 
to  make  bricks,  even  without  straw — to  endeavour  to  amuse 
and  edify  one  another,  even  though  they  live  far  from  any 
great  centre  of  culture  and  education. 

Only  six  persons  were  present  at  our  first  reading.  Many 
others  promised  to  come,  but  at  the  last  moment  their 
courage  failed  them.  "  They  never  could  read  aloud.  They 
would  come  and  listen ;  but  for  anything  else  they  were 
quite  afraid  to  venture."  Nor  was  this  diffidence  surprising 
when  we  considered  how  much  neglected  is  the  art  of  read- 
ing aloud,  than  which  no  accomplishment  is  more  social  and 
eminently  useful.  "  Hamlet  "  was  the  first  play  operated 
upon.  Two  members  of  the  club  made  a  selection  of  the 
parts  to  be  read,  taking  care  that  their  "elegant  extracts" 
could  be  read  in  about  two  hours. 


"MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 


After  a  good  deal  of  tittering  on  the  part  of  the  first 
readers  we  got  fairly  started,  and  the  reading  was  so  much 
better  than  we  expected,  that  "  to  be,  or  not  to  be  "  was  no 
longer  the  question  with  our  club,  especially  after  that 
soliloquy  had  been  very  effectively  given.  When  half  the 
play  was  read  through,  we  had  tea  and  talk  for  ten  minutes. 
During  this  time,  jokes  were  made  about  the  ghost  — 
"  Alas,  poor  ghost  !  "  —  and  different  opinions  put  forward  as 
to  the  correct  emphasis  to  be  given  to  the  several  words  in 

the  line  — 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ;  that  is  the  question." 

The  conversation  that  occupied  these  ten  minutes  was 
very  good.  The  readers  had  been  bottled  up,  so  to  speak, 
and  when  they  did  give  vent  to  their  thoughts  and  feelings, 
it  was  in  a  sparkling,  lively  flow  of  talk.  Our  reading  sup- 
plied a  text  from  which  we  considerably  departed,  for  we 
discussed  many  subjects  —  for  the  most  part,  however,  as 
became  rational  beings,  which  would  not  have  been  the  case 
if  there  had  been  only  talking  and  no  reading. 

Our  reading  party  met  every  week  at  the  houses  of  the 
several  members.  From  the  small  beginning  already  men- 
tioned it  has  become  greatly  enlarged,  and  three  other 
Shakesperian  Readings  (suggested  by  our  experiment)  have 
been  started  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  there  is  a  percep- 
tible improvement  in  the  society  of  our  town.  People  have 
something  else  than  mere  talk  to  occupy  them  when  they 
meet  their  friends.  Vulgar  gossip  about  neighbours'  con- 
cerns is  less  indulged  in,  and  reputations  no  longer  die  at 
every  word,  wink,  and  nod.  Boswell  was,  according  to  Dr. 


OUR  SHAKESPERIAN  READINGS.  141 

Johnson,  "  the  best  travelling  companion  in  the  world." 
For  such  a  purpose,  readiness  to  make  talk  at  all  hazards  is 
a  high  recommendation.  "  If,  sir,  you  were  shut  up  in  a 
castle  and  a  new-born  baby  with  you,  what  would  you  do  ?  " 
is  one  of  his  questions  to  Johnson,  a  propos  of  nothing. 
Those  who  have  not  this  capacity  for  talking  about  nothing 
will  appreciate  Shakesperian  Readings  as  being  helps  at  any 
rate  to  keep  the  ball  of  society  rolling  without  having  to 
make  talk  at  all  hazards  themselves.  Occasionally  recitations 
from  Tennyson  are  given  by  different  members,  and  charades 
have  been  substituted  at  some  houses  for  readings.  The 
end  aimed  at  is  to  raise  social  intercourse  to  a  higher  level 
by  giving  people  something  besides  gossip  to  think  and 
speak  of.  We  hear  much  of  the  elevation  of  the  working 
classes ;  but  those  who  have  been  gifted  with  social  talents 
are  greatly  to  blame  if  they  never  exert  themselves  to  make 
society  in  the  middle  class  a  little  more  bright  and  innocent. 
It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  a  person  must  be  rich 
in  order  to  become  a  social  influence.  Certainly  fashionable 
dinner  parties  are  expensive,  but  there  are  less  formal,  and 
therefore  more  friendly,  ways  of  seeing  one's  friends,  open 
to  people  of  very  limited  incomes.  We  ourselves  know 
mistresses  of  houses  whose  pleasure  it  is  to  bring  young 
people  together,  to  break  up  cliques,  to  be,  in  a  word, 
centres  of  social  influence,  and  this  they  do  at  no  greater 
expense  than  the  cost  of  a  few  pounds  of  tea  and  coffee,  and 
of  sweet  cakes  in  the  year.  These  ladies  have  enough 
brains,  tact,  and  sociability  to  make  their  entertainments 
pleasant  with  scarcely  any  other  outlay  than  that  of  good- 


142  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

nature  and  good-humour.     The  feasts  of  reason  and  flow  of 
soul  at  the  Saturday  afternoon  "  teas,"  and  Monday  Shake- 

sperian  Readings  of  Mrs. ,  the  leader  and  inspirer  of 

society  in  the  provincial  town  of ,  are  like  good  words 

— "  worth  much  and  cost  little." 


CHAPTER  XV. 


TIPPLING. 


"  Reader,  attend — whether  thy  soul 
Soars  fancy's  flights  beyond  the  pole, 
Or  darkling  grubs  this  earthly  hole 

In  low  pursuit, 
Know,  prudent,  cautious,  self-control^ 

Is  wisdom's  root." 
— Concluding  Verse  of  JBtirns*  Epitaph. 

"Temperance  puts  wood  on  the  fire,  meat  in  the  barrel,  flour  in  the 
tub,  money  in  the  purse,  credit  in  the  country,  clothes  on  the  bairns, 
intelligence  in  the  brain,  and  spirit  in  the  constitution." — Franklin. 

]EAN  RAMSAY,  in  his  '«  Reminiscences  of 
Scottish  Life,"  tells  us  of  an  old  laird  who, 
in  the  evil  days  of  three-bottle  men,  expressed 
himself  with  g^eat  indignation  at  the  charge 
brought  again:,  t  hard  drinking — that  it  had 
actually  killed  people.  "  Na,  na,  I  never  knew  anybody 


144  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

killed  wi'  drinking,  but  I  hae  kend  some  that  deed  in  the 
training."  Was  this  old  reprobate  drawing  a  distinction 
without  a  difference,  or  did  he  mean  by  "  the  training  "  the 
habit  of  tippling  ?  If  so,  he  certainly  was  not  wrong  in 
attributing  to  it  deadly  effects. 

The  question,  "  Are  we  better  than  our  fathers  ?  "  as  re- 
gards the  vice  of  drunkenness,  is  a  very  difficult  one  to 
answer.  Certainly,  we  may  congratulate  ourselves  on  not 
sitting  down  as  did  our  grandfathers,  with  the  deliberate 
intention  of  drinking  ourselves  under  the  table.  "  How 
barbarous ! "  is  our  instinctive  remark  on  reading  the 
accounts  of  dinner  parties  given  fifty  years  ago  in  Scotland, 
at  which  a  servant  attended  whose  appointed  duty  it  was 
"to  loose  the  cravats"  of  guests  who  should  fall  victims  to 
intoxication,  'in  fear  of  apoplexy  or  suffocation,  and  from 
which  the  dead  drunk,  since  they  could  not  go  to  bed  on 
their  "ain  feet,"  were  carried  to  their  apartments  on  the 
shoulders  of  stalwart  highlanders;  or  of  that  enterprising 
publican  in  London  who  went  so  far  as  to  invite  custom  by 
placing  on  his  signboard  words  which  not  only  indicated 
the  cheapness  and  abundance  of  the  supply  of  drink,  but 
testified  a  tender  and  thoughtful  consideration  for  the 
comfort  of  his  guests  when  reduced  to  that  state  which 
the  policeman  designates  as  incapable.  They  were  as 
follows ; 

Drunk  for  \d. 

Dead  drunk  for  zd. 

Clean  straw  for  nothing! 


TIPPLING.  145 


Happily  we  do  not  live  in  such  an  age  of  hard  drinking, 
but  most  unhappy  are  those  who  become  victims  of  the 
habit  of  tippling,  or  petty  but  perpetual  drinking — drinking 
such  as  is  indicated  by  the  terrible  playfulness  of  the  fol- 
lowing expressions  : — "  Taking  something,"  "  having  a  nip," 
"  wetting  the  bargain,"  "piling  the  agony." 

In  many  respects  tippling  is  quite  as  detrimental  to  health 
as  hard  drinking.  Perhaps,  indeed,  a  debauch  on  occasions 
is  less  injurious  than  the  habit  of  taking  "something  "every 
time  we  fancy  that  we  "need  something"  for  the  illness — 
called  in  the  disgusting  slang  of  topers,  "  hot  coppers  " — 
which  follows  a  "regular  bend,"  becomes  a  safety  valve  by 
means  of  which  the  alcoholic  poison  may  be  partially  re- 
moved from  the  system.  Then,  again,  the  habit  of  tippling 
is  far  more  deceptive  than  that  of  hard  drinking.  The 
drunkard  cannot  be  mistaken  about  himself;  but  the  tippler 
whose  boast  it  is  that  he  never  was  drunk  in  his  life,  that  he 
can  "carry  his  liquor,"  that  he  never  was  the  worse  for  it — 
this  man  falls  an  easy  prey  by  reason  of  his  thoughtless 
security  to  that  habit  which  "  first  draws,  then  drags,  and 
then  hauls."  Thousands  commit  suicide  by  a  process  of 
drink  poisoning  who  never  have  been  intoxicated  them- 
selves, and  who  consider  drunkards  the  chief  of  sinners. 
The  social  man  sees  no  danger  in  taking  a  "half  one "  at  the 
invitation  of  one  after  another  of  his  acquaintances.  It  is 
true  he  does  not  care  for  it ;  but  he  is  easy-going,  wants  to 
be  friendly,  and  does  not  like  to  appear  stiff.  "  How  can 
there  be  danger,"  thinks  the  invalid,  "in  what  my  phy- 
sician prescribes?  and  then  it  makes  me  feel  so  much 

10 


146  " MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

» 

better."  The  man  of  genius  detects  no  poison  in  that 
which  seems  a  spring  of  inspiration.  The  overwo/rked  can 
see  no  harm  in  giving  a  fillip  to  their  jaded  energies.  In- 
temperance comes  with  noiseless  step,  and  binds  its  first 
cords  with  a  touch  too  light  to  be  felt  Hard  brain-workers 
and  foolish  medical  men  ought  to  ponder  on  the  following 
words  quoted  from  Harriet  Martineau's  "Autobiography." 
A  clergyman  had  been  speaking  to  her  about  the  habit  of 
relieving  the  tear  and  wear  of  authorship  with  pernicious 
stimulants.  "  Why,  I  do  not,"  said  I.  "  Fresh  air  and  cold 
water  are  my  stimulants."  "  I  believe'  you,"  he  replied. 
"  But  you  work  in  the  morning ;  and  there  is  much  in  that." 
I  then  remembered  that  when,  for  a  short  time,  I  had  to 
work  at  night,  a  physician  who  called  upon  me  observed 
that  I  must  not  allow  myself  to  be  exhausted  at  the  end  of 
the  day.  He  would  not  advise  any  alcoholic  wine;  but 
any  light  wine  that  I  liked  might  do  me  good.  '  *  You  have 
a  cupboard  there  at  your  hand,"  said  he.  "  Keep  a  bottle 
of  hock  and  a  wine-glass  there,  and  help  yourself  when  you 
feel  you  want  it."  "  No,  thank  you,"  said  I.  "  If  I  took 
wine,  it  should  not  be  when  alone ;  nor  would  I  help  my- 
self to  a  glass.  I  might  take  a  little  more  and  a  little  more, 
till  my  solitary  glass  might  become  a  regular  tippling  habit  " 
(vol.  i.  p.  193).  This  foolish  physician  reminds  us  of 
another  who  said  to  a  man,  "You  ought  to  take  a  little 
champagne."  "Why?"  he  asked.  "Well,  you  are  very 
tall,  and  you  are  very  bald,  and  the  top  of  your  head  is 
necessarily  cold,  and  you  need  some  stimulus  to  send  the 
blood  to  the  top  of  your  head." 


TIPPLING.  147 


In  reference  to  tippling,  we  might  parody  two  well-known 
lines  from  "  Macbeth  "  : 

"  Another,  and  another,  and  another, 
Creeps  in  each  little  glass  from  day  to  day." 

Instead  of  carefully  measuring  our  liquor  so  as  to  confine 
ourselves  to  what  is  good,  or,  at  least,  not  bad  for  us,  we 
fall  into  the  snare  against  which  Miss  Martineau  was  on  her 
guard — the  snare  of  taking  a  little  more  and  a  little  more, 
till  our  solitary  glass  becomes  a  regular  tippling  habit. 
"  There  is  another  fallacy,"  said  Dr.  Richardson,  "  con- 
nected with  moderate  drinking,  and  that  is  its  undefinability." 
What  is  moderate  drinking  ?  What  is  a  moderate  dose  of 
the  "  devil  in  solution  "  ?  I  have  asked  this  question  of  a 
great  many  people,  and  I  have  written  down  a  few  notes  of 
certain  persons  who  declare  themselves  very  moderate.  I 
will  not  give  names,  but  I  will  put  them  down  as  B,  C,  and 
D.  B  is  a  moderate  man,  and,  what  is  more,  he  is  a  rigidly 
regular  man.  He  takes  one  pint  of  malt  liquor  at  lunch ; 
he  takes  half  a  pint  of  wine  regularly  at  dinner,  and  he  takes 
one  or  two  whiskies  at  bed-time.  I  find  that  represents 
six  ounces  of  alcohol ;  and  then  I  turn  to  the  physiological 
side  of  the  question,  and  I  find  the  alcohol  does  this 
for  the  man — it  makes  his  heart  beat  18,000  times  a  day 
beyond  what  it  ought  to  do,  and  it  makes  that  unfortu- 
nate heart  raise  what  would  be  equivalent  to  nineteen 
extra  tons  weight  one  foot  from  the  earth.  That  is  the 
effect  of  his  moderation.  I  turn  to  another  moderate  man, 
who  says  he  is  "  very  moderate."  He  tells  me  he  takes  one 


148  "  MANNERS  MAR  YTH  MAN? 

pint  of  cooper — a  mixture  of  stout  and  bitter  ale — in  the 
course  of  the  day,  if  he  feels  flagging ;  a  pint  of  claret  at 
dinner — for  that  he  considers  the  soundest  wine — and  a 
couple  of  glasses  of  sherry  or  port  with  dessert.  That  man 
takes  at  least  four  ounces  of  alcohol  a  day,  the  physiological 
effect  of  which  is  to  force  his  heart  to  12,000  extra  beats, 
and  to  make  it  do  about  fourteen  foot  tons  of  extra  work. 
I  pass  to  another  man,  who  is  called  "  a  very,  very  mode- 
rate drinker."  He  takes  two  glasses  of  sherry  at  luncheon 
and  one  pint  of  claret  at  dinner.  That  would  represent 
three  ounces  of  alcohol,  and  would  give  10,000  extra  strokes 
to  the  heart  and  nine  extra  foot  tons  of  work. 

At  a  review  at  Aldershot  two  foreign  princes,  not  know- 
ing their  way,  drove  up  to  a  sentry  and  asked,  "  Do  you 
know  where  the  Prince  of  Wales  or  the  Duke  of  Cambridge 
is  ?  "  "  No,  sir,"  replied  Thomas  Atkins ;  "  I  don't  know 
myself,  but  I'll  ask  my  mate.  He  knows  all  the  public- 
houses  about  here."  Yes,  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  the 
"  mate  "  considers  himself  a  moderate  man,  and  not  at  all 
a  drunkard. 

A  chaplain  in  the  convict  service  thus  writes  in  his  "  Life 
among  Convicts  "  : 

"  I  once  asked  a  prisoner  what  he  was  in  for. 

"  *  Manslaughter,'  was  the  reply. 

" '  Who  was  the  man  you  killed  ? ' 

"  '  It  was  a  woman,  sir.' 

"  c  Who  was  the  woman  ? ' 

" '  My  wife ;  but  it  was  a  family  matter,  and  interfered 
with  no  one  but  myself'  " 


TIPPLING.  149 


The  reasoning  of  this  convict  is  surely  no  worse  than 
that  of  tipplers  who  object  to  all  remonstrance  on  the 
ground  that  "  it  interferes  with  no  one  but  ourselves."  We 
cannot  tipple  ourselves  without  becoming  the  cause  of  tip- 
pling in  others.  The  habit  is  most  infectious.  We  seldom 
originate  it  ourselves.  It  is  caught,  like  a  fever,  from  some 
one  else.  One  man  infects  another.  Good  fellowship  and 
social  bonhomie  hand  this  subtle,  serpentine,  insidious 
alcohol  round  the  friendly  circle  for  the  sake  of  laughing 
and  playing  with  its  brightness. 

A  very  sad  example  of  the  danger  that  may  be  latent  in 
a  "  friendly  glass  "  was  given  the  other  evening  in  my  hear- 
ing by  a  popular  bishop.  "  I  wonder,"  said  his  lordship, 
"  whether  a  man  ever  recovers  who  has  had  an  attack  of 
delirium  tremens  ?  One  case  I  remember  that  bears  on 
the  point.  The  man  I  am  thinking  of  was  a  well-to-do 
tradesman,  but  he  was  fast  ruining  himself  and  his  family  by 
intemperance.  I  first  saw  him  when  recovering  from  an 
attack  of  delirium  tremens.  Some  words  of  mine  had  such 
weight  with  him  that  he  resolved  to  abstain  entirely.  Years 
went  by,  and  not  a  drop  of  intoxicating  liquor  entered  his 
mouth.  Six,  seven,  eight  years  passed,  and  his  resolution 
remained  unbroken.  On  the  anniversary  of  the  eighth  sober 
year,  his  friends,  thinking  the  reformation  complete,  resolved 
to  give  a  dinner  in  his  honour.  A  family  circle,  rendered 
happy  by  the  temperance  of  its  head,  received  the  congra- 
tulations of  intimate  friends.  But  it  was  a  feast  of  deadly 
wine.  Healths  were  proposed,  and  he  who  was  being 
honoured  was  told  that  'to  drink  his  own  health  in  one 


1 50  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

glass  could  certainly  do  him  no  harm  after  totally  abstaining 
for  eight  years.'  He  drank  the  glass,  and  two  years  after- 
wards I  was  called  in  to  visit  a  poor  drunkard  who  was  on 
his  deathbed  by  reason  of  that  one  '  friendly  glass.5 "  As 
the  taste  of  blood  rouses  the  tiger,  so  did  this  single  glass 
rouse  the  evil  spirit  of  intemperance  in  this  poor  victim  of 
careless  hospitality. 

Silly  boys  sometimes  fancy  that  it  is  a  manly  thing  to 
tipple,  but  now  it  would  seem  to  have  become  a  sadly 
womanly  habit.  Many  women  have  not  enough  interests 
in  life,  and  the  eternal  curse  of  a  do-nothing  existence  is, 
that  its  victims  are  compelled  to  think  of  themselves.  As 
a  relief  from  this  state,  certain  "  pick-me-ups  "  that  are  not 
what  they  seem,  are  coquetted  with.  The  delicacy,  too,  of 
their  physical  organizations  exposes  women  to  inequalities 
of  feeling  which  tempt  to  the  seductive  relief  given  by 
tippling.  Strong  men  who  disbelieve  in  "nerves"  little 
know  what  the  sensitive  frame  of  woman  suffers,  how  many 
desponding  imaginations  throng  on  her  in  her  solitudes, 
how  often  she  is  exhausted  by  unremitting  cares,  and  how 
much  the  power  of  self-control  is  impaired  by  repeated 
derangements  of  her  frail  system.  A  few  years  ago  5,131 
women — only  think  of  that,  and  of  all  the  hideous  degrada- 
tion, all  the  unspeakable  horror  which  it  implies ! — were 
arrested  for  drunkenness  in  Middlesex  alone.  But  we  are 
speaking  of  invisible  rather  than  of  visible  drinking;  of 
tippling,  not  of  drunkenness.  The  women  we  are  thinking 
of  are  not  known  to  tipple  except  by  those  whose  lives  they 
are  cursing.  But  these  may  ask  with  heartfelt  sadness — 


TIPPLING.  151 


"  When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly, 

And  finds  too  late  that  '  nips '  betray, 

What  charm  can  soothe  her  melancholy  ? 

What  art  can  wash  her  guilt  away  ?  " 

Man  has  been  defined  as  "a  two-legged  animal,  with 
broad  nails,  and  without  feathers."  A  better  definition 
would  seem  to  be  "  an  animal  that  drinks  without  eating — 
that  drinks  without  being  thirsty."  Such  a  description 
would  completely  distinguish  him  from  a  brute,  for  no  brute 
is  so  foolish  as  to  do  that.  Never  let  us  drink  except  at 
meals.  The  "doctor,"  or  morning  "pick-me-up,"  can  only 
be  called  by  such  names  in  bitter  irony,  as  it  kills  and  lets 
down  the  system,  while  "  nightcaps  "  will  certainly  bid  those 
who  habitually  don  them  a  very  long  "  good-night."  We 
should  never  drink  spirits  neat,  and  carelessness  in  pouring 
them  unmeasured  into  a  glass  has  made  many  a  drunkard. 
Those  drinks  that  contain  least  alcohol,  such  as  malt 
liquors,  claret,  hock,  are  of  course  the  most  harmless. 

Above  all,  let  us  realize  the  truism  that  it  can  be  no  part 
of  friendship  to  tempt  a  weak  brother  to  drown  himself  in 
alcoholic  perdition,  or  to  say  "Yes"  ourselves  to  every 
"fool's"  "What  will  you  drink?"  It  is  most  unmannerly 
for  "  those  winks  and  finger-ends  "  we  dread  to  be  "  notice 
taking"  on  our  making  the  not  very  terrible  observation 
that  "we  only  drink  water."  Those  who  are  at  liberty  to 
drink  should  allow  others  the  liberty  of  not  drinking.  But 
this  privilege  is  not  granted  to  the  young  man  who  is  pressed 
to  take  * '  something "  by  his  elders,  whose  wavering  resolu- 
tion is  conquered  with  a  grin.  Hence,  in  the  name  of 


1 52  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

everything  earnest  and  serious,  with  those  glozing  pet  names 
forged  in  hell  to  conceal  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  drunken- 
ness. Why  laugh  at  extinguishing  reason  and  divesting 
ourselves  for  a  time  of  moral  nature  ?  Talk  of  intemperance 
before  the  young  as  a  mere  "going  on  the  spree,"  and 
"having  a  bend,"  and  they  will  never  think  that  the 
drunkard's  sin  consists  in  putting  out  the  light  of  under- 
standing and  conscience  within  him,  abandoning  his  rank 
among  God's  rational  creatures,  and  taking  his  place  among 
brutes.  Let  temperance,  and  not  intemperance,  be  always 
on  the  laughing  side  in  our  thoughts  and  words. 

When  using  this  always  dangerous  luxury,  we  should 
reflect  that  children  and  servants  will  do  as  they  see  their 
elders  and  "betters"  doing.  "In  all  time  of  our  tribula- 
tion, in  all  time  of  our  wealth,"  let  us  ask  God  to  deliver 
us  from  the  temptation  either  of  drowning  sorrow  in  the 
coward's  cup  or  of  relieving  in  the  same  way  the  ennui  that 
so  often  burdens  people  in  so-called  "  easy  circumstances." 
When  exhausted  with  work  or  pleasure  we  ought  never  to 
use  alcoholic  drinks,  for  the  interest  charged  by  nature  for 
loans  of  artificial  strength  amounts  to  usury.  Drawing 
cheques  on  a  bank  can  never  be  the  same  thing  as  making 
deposits. 

Lastly,  we  would  recommend  even  moderate  drinkers  to 
ask  themselves,  "  Would  I  not  be  as  well  with  less  ? "  If 
to  this  question  they  give  an  honest  answer,  they  will  let 
their  daily  allowance  of  strong  drink  become  "small  by 
degrees  and  beautifully  less."  There  are  excellent  substi- 
tutes, such  as  tea,  coffee,  milk — the  most  nourishing  of 


TIPPLING.  153 


beverages — chocolate,  cocoa,  beaten-up  eggs,  lime  juice. 
This  last  is  sometimes  pleasant  after  smoking,  and  all  the 
list  might  be  resorted  to  at  choice,  when  at  the  customary 
tippling  hours  we  feel  a  "  want  of  something."  Many  a 
young  fellow  tipples  who  does  not  care  about  doing  so. 
Any  liquor  would  do  for  him,  even  ink,  for  he  only  takes 
"  something  "  from  habit  or  for  companionship. 

We  sometimes  speak  as  if  labouring  and  uneducated 
people  were  alone  in  danger,  and  as  if  we  ourselves  had 
no  interest  in  the  cause  of  temperance.  But  the  fact  is, 
all  classes  are  in  danger.  The  young  are  exposed  to  in- 
temperance, for  youth  wants  forethought,  and  loves  excite- 
ment. Nor  are  the  old  secure,  for  age  unnerves  the  mind 
as  well  as  the  body,  and  silently  steals  away  the  power  of 
self-control.  The  idle  are  in  scarcely  less  peril  than  the 
overworked  labourer,  for  the  excitement  of  intoxicating 
draughts  is  greedily  sought  as  an  escape  from  the  intolerable 
weariness  of  having  nothing  to  do.  Men  of  a  coarse  cha- 
racter see  nothing  in  the  brutality  of  intemperance  to  disgust 
them.  Nor  is  cultivated  genius  less  tempted,  mental  action 
being  even  more  exhausting  than  the  toil  of  the  hands. 
The  enemy  is  a  common  one,  and  gives  no  quarter;  should 
there  not  therefore  be  a  common  resistance  ? 

It  is  true,  as  those  who  speak  and  write  against  tippling 
and  other  sins  connected  with  drinking  are  frequently  re- 
minded— it  is  true  that  gluttony  is  quite  as  bad  as  drunken- 
ness, and  that  in  our  day  it  is  perhaps  more  common.  It  is 
a  sad  fact  that  many  destroy  all  the  higher  gifts  of  intellect, 
brutalize  their  passions  and  coarsen  every  fibre  both  of  body 


154  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

and  soul  by  over-eating.  Cowardly  dread  of  appearing 
singular,  false  notions  of  politeness,  the  ridicule  of  fools, 
pampered  appetite,  make  us  eat  and  drink  not  to  the  glory 
of  God,  but  to  His  dishonour.  Let  us  not  be  like  the  clown 
in  "All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,"  who  said,  "I  will  show 
myself  highly  fed  and  lowly  taught."  Rather,  we  should 
remember,  that  what  we  leave  at  table  often  does  us  more 
good  than  what  we  eat ;  and,  that  if  we  eat  little,  we  shall 
probably  eat  much  :  that  is  to  say,  we  shall  live  longer  than 
great  eaters,  and  so  eat  more.  It  is  a  very  natural  sequence 
that  a  man  should  take  to  his  bier  after  having  been  ale-ing 
for  months,  but  it  is  quite  as  natural  that  he  should  do  so 
who  eats  more  than  is  "  convenient "  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"MONEY  is  CHARACTER." 

"  Seek  not  proud  riches  but  such  as  thou  mayest  get  justly,  use 
soberly,  distribute  cheerfully,  and  leave  contentedly." — Bacon. 

"  Be  ye  good  money  changers." — Old  Maxim. 

JVER  treat  money  affairs  with  levity — money 
is  character."  It  is  to  be  feared  that  many 
neglect  this  wise  caution,  and  do  not  put 
conscience  into  the  making  and  the  spending 
of  money.  One  reason  for  this,  perhaps, 
is  that  in  their  preaching,  if  not  in  their  practice,  moralists 
have  ignored  money  and  failed  to  teach  its  right  use.  But 
is  it  not  the  root  of  all  evil  ?  Certainly  not,  and  St.  Paul 
never  said  so.  What  he  did  say  was  that  a  love  of  money 
is  not  the  root,  but  a  root  (Revised  Version),  from  which 
evil  comes,  as  it  comes  from  everything  else  when  wrongly 
used. 


156  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

Such  being  the  case,  how  absurd  does  it  seem  to  disparage 
money,  as  if  it  were  something  sinful  and  dangerous.  As 
well  disparage  man-power,  horse-power,  steam-power,  or 
any  other  power.  As  a  force,  money  is  neither  hurtful  nor 
beneficial,  neither  bad  nor  good  in  itself.  All  depends  on  the 
way  in  which  it  is  used  or  directed.  Gunpowder  can  blast 
a  quarry  and  bring  forth  stones  with  which  an  hospital  may 
be  built ;  but  the  same  gunpowder  can  blow  thousands  of 
men  into  eternity  in  a  single  day.  A  rich  man,  if  he  be 
unselfish,  has  in  his  wealth  the  power  of  making  his  fellow- 
creatures  less  coarse,  less  depraved,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
less  miserable.  From  the  vantage-ground  of  high  position 
he  can  fight  a  chivalrous  battle  for  the  afflicted  and  him 
that  hath  no  helper.  His  good  example  will  have  far  more 
effect  than  that  of  a  poorer  man.  His  influence,  if  directed 
to  good  and  merciful  objects,  is  as  powerful  for  good  as  that 
of  the  selfish  rich  man  is  for  the  reverse.  "  Nobody  should 
be  rich,"  said  Goethe,  "  but  those  who  understand  it."  But 
when  a  man  owns  gracefully  and  usefully,  what  good  may 
he  not  do  in  the  way  of  opening  a  path  for  others,  and 
giving  them  access  to  whatever  civilizing  agencies  he  may 
himself  possess !  Therefore  we  can  understand  how  both 
religion  and  philanthropy  may  treat  with  respect  and  even 
with  reverence  the  motto,  "  Put  money  in  thy  purse."  May 
we  not  even  say  that  it  is  the  desire  to  "get  on"  and  to 
become  rich  that  prevents  our  sinking  into  barbarism  ? 

" There  is  always  a  reason  in  the  man"  says  Emerson, 
"  for  his  good  or  bad  fortune,  and  so  in  making  money." 
This  rule  is  not  without  exceptions,  for  now  and  then  people 


"MONEY  IS  CHARACTER."  157 

do  become  rich  by  lucky  or  even  by  dishonest  "  hits  ; "  never- 
theless money  is  in  the  main  representative.  Show  me  a 
man  who  has  made  fifty  thousand  pounds,  and  I  will  show 
you  in  that  man  an  equivalent  of  energy,  attention  to  detail, 
trustworthiness,  punctuality,  professional  knowledge,  good 
address,  common  sense,  and  other  marketable  qualities.  The 
farmer  respects  his  yellow  sovereigns  not  unnaturally,  for 
they  declare  with  all  the  solemnity  of  a  sealed  and  stamped 
document  that  for  a  certain  length  of  time  he  rose  at  six 
o'clock  each  morning  to  oversee  his  labourers,  that  he 
patiently  waited  upon  seasonable  weather,  that  he  understood 
buying  and  selling.  To  the  medical  man,  his  fee  serves  as 
a  medal  to  indicate  that  he  was  brave  enough  to  face  small- 
pox and  other  infectious  diseases,  and  his  self-respect  is 
fostered  thereby.  The  barrister's  brief  is  marked  with  the 
price  of  his  legal  knowledge,  of  his  eloquence,  or  of  his 
brave  endurance  during  a  period  of  hope-deferred  briefless- 
ness. 

But  besides  its  usefulness  and  its  being  the  representative 
of  sterling  qualities,  the  golden  smile  of  Dame  Fortune  is 
to  be  sought  for  the  invaluable  privilege  of  being  indepen- 
dent, or  at  least  being  out  of  the  horrid  incumbrance  of 
indebtedness.  A  man  in  debt  is  so  far  a  slave ;  while  it  is 
comparatively  easy  for  one  possessed  of  ten  thousand  per 
annum  to  be  true  to  his  word,  to  be  a  man  of  honour,  to 
have  the  courage  of  his  opinions.  When  a  man  or  woman 
is  driven  to  the  wall,  the  chances  of  goodness  surviving 
self-respect  and  the  loss  of  public  esteem  are  frightfully 
diminished. 


1 58  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

But  while  striving  to  escape  from  the  physical  suffering 
and  the  mental  and  moral  disadvantages  that  attend  the  lot 
of  poverty,  \ve  should  admit  to  ourselves  the  fact,  that  there 
are  hardly  less  disadvantages  and  temptations  ready  to  make 
us  miserable,  if  we  are  not  on  our  guard  after  attaining  to  a 
reasonable  amount  of  wealth.  In  a  meeting  assembled  to 
make  arrangements  for  Mr.  Moody's  last  preaching  campaign 
in  London,  one  of  the  speakers  expressed  his  hope  that  Mr. 
Moody  would  "do  something  for  the  miserable  poor  of 
London."  "I  shall  try  and  do  so,"  was  the  preacher's  reply; 
v  "  and  I  hope  also  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  the  miser- 
able rich."  "  The  miserable  rich  !  "  Some  would  think  the 
expression  almost  a  contradiction  in  terms,  but  it  is  not ; 
for  the  rich,  while  possessing  the  means,  as  we  have  already 
said,  of  doing  vast  good,  have  nevertheless  many  things  to 
render  them  unhappy. 

Great  wealth  is  a  heavy  burden ;  the  life  of  a  rich  peer 
being  described  as  "made  like  the  life  of  an  attorney  by  the 
extent  of  his  affairs."  Even  their  most  cherished  means  of 
enjoyment  may  become  the  possibilities  of  vexation  to  the 
rich.  Some  may  think  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  landlord,  but 
there  is  hardly  any  position  more  irksome.  There  is  no  end 
of  trouble  with  tenants.  The  same  thing  with  servants. 
People  who  have  many  servants  are  sometimes  worse  served 
than  those  who  have  only  one ;  for  what  is  every  one's 
business  is  nobody's,  and  each  individual  servant  is  ready 
with  the  answer :  "Oh,  that  is  not  in  my  department,"  when 
asked  to  do  anything.  The  more  valuable  is  your  horse,  the 
greater  is  your  anxiety  about  his  knees.  It  is  proverbially 


"  MONE  Y  IS  CHAR  A  CTER."  1 59 

difficult  for  a  lady  to  be  "  mistress  of  herself  though  china 
fall; "  but  if  the  sound  of  broken  del/vise,  from  the  kitchen, 
"Another  plate"  is  her  indifferent  remark.  The  fact  is, 
every  new  possession  becomes  an  additional  something  to 
bo  looked  after,  and  adds  almost  as  much  to  our  anxiety  as 
it  does  to  our  comfort  There  is  sound  philosophy  in  the 
answer  a  king  is  related  to  have  given  to  one  of  his  stable- 
boys,  when,  meeting  him  one  morning,  he  asked  him:  "  Well, 
boy,  what  do  you  do ?  What  do  they  pay  you ? "  "I  help 
in  the  stable,"  replied  the  lad ;  "  but  I  have  nothing  except 
victuals  and  clothes."  "Be  content,"  replied  the  king;  "I 
have  no  more." 

In  Dr.  Guthrie's  Autobiography  there  is  a  good  illustration 
of  the  unhappy  state  of  cynicism  into  which  the  rich  are 
prone  to  fall.  There  he  relates  how,  in  a  winter  of  extra- 
ordinary severity,  he  made  an  appeal  to  a  lady  who  had 
succeeded  to  a  prodigious  fortune,  on  behalf  of  the  starving 
poor  of  his  parish.  In  doing  so  he  had  no  very  sanguine 
hope  of  success.  On  being  ushered  into  her  room,  she 
turned  round,  and  showing  her  thin  spare  figure,  and  a  face 
that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  cut  out  of  mahogany,  grinned 
and  said  :  "  I  am  sorry  to  see  ye.  What  do  you  want  ?  I  sup- 
pose you  are  here  seeking  siller?  "  "The  very  thing  I  have 
come  for,"  was  the  Doctor's  frank  reply.  Her  next  remark 
demonstrated  how  little  power  her  riches  had  of  conferring 
happiness ;  and  with  all  her  wealth  of  flatterers,  what  a  poor, 
lonely,  desolate,  miserable  creature  this  possessor  of  more 
than  a  million  sterling  was.  "  Ah  ! "  she  said,  "  there  is 
nobody  comes  to  see  me  or  seek  me ;  but  it's  money,  the 


160  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

money  they  are  after."  We  are  glad  to  be  able  to  relate 
that  this  miserable  rich  old  lady  gave  to  Dr.  Guthrie  fifty 
pounds  for  the  poor — an  act  which  we  hope  shed  a  gleam 
of  sunshine  into  her  dark  life. 

Rich  people  think  that  it  is  good  for  trade  to  be  free- 
handed with  wealth,  and  do  not  always  distinguish  between 
productive  and  unproductive  expenditure.  They  are  fre- 
quently guilty  of  demoralizing  the  poorer  classes  by  careless 
almsgiving  and  the  bad  example  of  their  thoughtless  money- 
spending. 

Of  course,  so  far  as  they  are  influenced  by  religious 
considerations,  the  rich  recognize  the  truth  that  all  their 
possessions  are  held  in  trust,  and  only  lent  to  them  by  a 
superior  Power  for  the  service  of  their  fellow-beings.  But 
the  rich  have  difficulties  as  well  as  the  poor,  and  one  of  these 
lies  in  determining  how  to  distribute  their  expenditure  in  a 
way  that  shall  prove  beneficial  to  society.  The  question, 
" To  whom  or  to  what  cause  shall  I  contribute  money?" 
must  be  a  very  anxious  one  to  conscientious  men  of  wealth. 
"How  are  we  to  measure,"  we  may  suppose  rich  men  to  ask, 
"  the  relative  utility  of  charities  ?  And  then  political  econo- 
mists are  down  upon  us  if,  by  mistake,  we  help  those  who 
might  have  helped  themselves.  It  is  easy  to  talk  against 
our  extravagance ;  tell  us  rather  how  to  spend  our  money 
advantageously — that  is  to  say,  for  the  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number."  The  fact  is,  riches  must  now  be  considered 
by  all  good  men  as  a  distinct  profession,  with  responsibilities 
no  less  onerous  than  those  of  other  professions.  And  this 
very  difficult  profession  of  wealth  ought  to  be  learned  by 


"MONEY  IS  CHARACTER"  161 

studying  social  science  and  otherwise  with  as  much  care  as 
the  professions  of  divinity,  law,  and  medicine  are  learned. 
When  in  this  way  the  rich  accept  and  prepare  themselves  for 
the  duties  of  their  high  calling,  it  will  cease  to  be  a  cause  of 
complaint  that,  in  the  nature  of  things,  money  tends  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  a  few  large  capitalists. 

Nor  is  the  money-spending  of  the  poor  less  careless  than 
that  of  the  rich.  During  the  time  of  high  wages,  labouring 
people  buy  salmon  and  green  peas  when  they  are  barely  in 
season;  and  Professor  Leone  Levi  computes  that  their 
annual  drink-bill  amounts  to  thirty-six  millions.  That  is 
exactly  the  sum  which  the  working-classes  spend  in  rent  ; 
so,  although  better  houses  are  the  strongest  and  most  im- 
perative demands  for  the  working-classes,  those  classes  are 
spending,  on  the  lowest  estimate,  a  sum  equal  to  what  they 
are  spending  on  rent. 

Some  two  years  ago.  an  eminent  London  physician  went 
into  Hyde  Park  and  sat  down  upon  a  bench,  and  there  sat 
down  by  him  a  pauper  eighty  years  of  age.  The  physician 
entered  into  conversation  with  him,  and  asked  him  what  his 
trade  was.  The  man  said  he  was  a  carpenter. 

"A  very  good  trade  indeed.  Well,  how  is  it  that  you 
come  at  this  time  of  life  to  be  a  pauper  ?  Have  you  been 
addicted  to  drink." 

"Not  at  all;  I  have  only  taken  my  three  pints  a  day — 
never  spent  more  than  sixpence  daily." 

The  physician,  taking  out  a  pencil  and  a  piece  of  paper, 
asked :  "  How  long  have  you  continued  this  practice  of 
drinking  three  pints  of  ale  a  day  ?  " 

ii 


1 62  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

"  I  am  now  eighty,  and  I  have  continued  that  practice, 
more  or  less,  for  sixty  years." 

"Very  well,"  continued  the  physician,  "  I  will  just  do  the 
sum."  He  found  that  sixpence  a  day  laid  by  for  sixty  years 
amounted,  with  compound  interest,  to  three  thousand  two 
hundred  and  twenty-six  pounds;  and  he  said  to  the  old 
carpenter :  "  My  good  man,  instead  of  being  a  pauper,  you 
might  have  been  the  possessor  of  three  thousand  two 
hundred  and  twenty-six  pounds  at  this  moment ;  in  other 
words,  you  might  have  had  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a 
year,  or  some  three  pounds  a  week,  not  by  working  an  hour 
longer  or  doing  anything  differently,  except  by  putting  by 
the  money  that  you  have  been  spending  day  by  day  these 
sixty  years  on  ale."  The  physician's  conclusion,  however, 
should  perhaps  be  modified  by  the  consideration  that  if  this 
man  had  ceased  spending  sixpence  on  beer,  he  might  have 
required  to  spend  a  portion  of  that  sixpence  on  an  increased 
supply  of  food.  But  notwithstanding  this,  the  physician's 
argument  is  in  the  main  a  sound  one. 

It  is  not  "  ologies  "  that  the  working-classes  require  to  be 
taught  so  much,  as  the  right  use  of  money  and  the  good 
things  that  can  be  purchased  with  it,  It  often  astonishes 
the  rich  to  see  the  wasteful  expenditure  of  the  poor ;  but  an 
explanation  will  be  found  in  the  caution  which  Dr.  Johnson 
gives  to  men  who  fancy  that  poor  girls  must  necessarily  make 
the  most  economical  wives.  "A  woman  of  fortune,"  he 
says,  "  being  used  to  the  handling  of  money,  spends  it 
judiciously ;  but  a  woman  who  gets  the  command  of 
money  for  the  first  time  upon  her  marriage,  has  such  a 


"MONEY  is  CHARACTER:'  163 

gust  in  spending,  that  she  throws  it  away  with  great 
profusion." 

Economy  is  altogether  different  from  penuriousness ;  for 
it  is  economy  that  can  always  best  afford  to  be  generous. 
In  one  of  his  lectures,  Emerson  relates  the  following 
anecdote :  "An  opulent  merchant  in  Boston  was  called  on 
by  a  friend  in  behalf  of  a  charity.  At  that  time  he  was 
admonishing  his  clerk  for  using  whole  wafers  instead  of 
halves;  his  friend  thought  the  circumstance  unpropitious, 
but  to  his  surprise,  on  listening  to  the  appeal,  the  merchant 
subscribed  five  hundred  dollars.  The  applicant  expressed  his 
astonishment  that  any  person  who  was  so  particular  about 
half  a  wafer  should  present  five  hundred  dollars  to  a  charity; 
but  the  merchant  said,  '  It  is  by  saving  half  wafers,  and  attend- 
ing to  such  little  things,  that  I  have  now  something  to  give/  " 
We  ourselves  knew  of  an  army  doctor  who,  because  he  drew 
good  pay  and  was  very  saving,  was  considerably  chaffed  by 
his  brother  officers.  One  day  he  quietly  remarked  to  one 
who  hinted  that  it  was  shabby  of  him  not  to  contribute  more 
towards  getting  up  some  entertainment — "If  you  had  an  old 
father  and  mother  in  Ireland  to  support,  perhaps  you  would 
not  be  so  free  with  your  coin." 

"  Do  not  accustom  yourself,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  "to 
consider  debt  only  as  an  inconvenience ;  you  will  find  it  a 
calamity."  Only  the  other  day  the  writer  was  speaking  to 
an  officer  in  the  army  who  was  so  far  from  considering  the 
debt  which  he  owed  to  his  tailor  as  either  an  inconvenience 
or  a  calamity,  that  he  seemed  to  be  quite  proud  of  it.  "  My 
tailor,"  said  he,  "  never  duns  me  for  the  money.  When  I 


1 64  « MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN* 

have  a  pound  or  two  which  I  don't  want,  I  send  it  to  him, 
just  as  other  people  put  it  in  a  bank."  It  was  no  use 
telling  him  that  five  or  ten  per  cent,  on  the  amount  of  his 
bill  was  being  charged  every  year,  and  that  on  a  day  when 
he  least  expected  it,  payment  would  be  demanded.  Had 
this  officer  never  heard  of  the  General  Order  which  was 
issued  by  Sir  Charles  Napier,  in  taking  leave  of  his  command 
in  India  ?  Sir  Charles  strongly  urged  in  that  famous  docu- 
ment that  "  honesty  is  inseparable  from  the  character  of  a 
thoroughbred  gentleman;"  and  that  "to  drink  unpaid-for 
champagne  and  unpaid-for  beer,  and  to  ride  unpaid-for 
horses,  is  to  be  a  cheat,  and  not  a  gentleman." 

Men  who  lived  beyond  their  means  might  be  officers  by 
virtue  of  their  commissions,  but  they  were  not  gentlemen. 
The  habit  of  being  constantly  in  debt,  the  general  held, 
made  men  grow  callous  to  the  proper  feelings  of  a  gentleman. 
It  was  not  enough  that  an  officer  should  be  able  to  fight ; 
that,  any  bulldog  could  do.  But  did  he  hold  his  word 
inviolate  ?  Did  he  pay  his  debts  ?  To  provide  for  others 
and  for  our  own  comfort  and  independence  in  old  age,  is 
honourable,  and  greatly  to  be  commended;  but  to  hoard  for 
mere  wealth's  sake  is  the  characteristic  of  the  narrow-souled 
and  the  miserly.  "  We  must  carry  money  in  the  head,  not 
in  the  heart ; "  that  is  to  say,  we  must  not  make  an  idol  of 
it,  but  regard  it  as  a  useful  agent. 

Some  of  the  finest  qualities  of  human  nature  are  intimately 
related  to  the  right  use  of  money,  such  as  generosity, 
honesty,  justice,  and  self-sacrifice,  as  well  as  the  practical 
virtues  of  economy  and  providence.  On  the  other  hand, 


"MONEY  IS  CHARACTER? 


165 


there  are  their  counterparts  of  avarice,  fraud,  injustice,  and 
selfishness,  as  displayed  by  the  inordinate  lovers  of  gain; 
and  the  vices  of  thriftlessness,  extravagance,  and  improvi- 
dence, on  the  part  of  those  who  misuse  and  abuse  the 
means  intrusted  to  them.  "  So  that,"  as  it  has  been  well 
said,  "a  right  measure  and  manner  in  getting,  saving, 
spending,  giving,  taking,  lending,  borrowing,  and  bequeathing, 
would  almost  argue  a  perfect  man." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  advantages  of  travel.  We  are  spectators,  having 
for  the  time  no  duties,  no  ties,  no  associations,  no  responsibilities  ; 
nothing  to  do  but  to  look  on,  and  look  fairly.  .  .  .  Then  the  diversities 
of  character  you  meet  with  instruct  and  delight  you.  The  variety  in 
language,  dress,  behaviour,  religious  ceremonies,  mode  of  life,  amuse- 
ments, arts,  climate,  government,  lays  hold  of  your  attention  and  takes 
you  out  of  the  wheel-tracks  of  your  everyday  cares.  He  must,  indeed, 
be  either  an  angel  of  constancy  and  perseverance,  or  a  wonderfully 
obtuse  Caliban  of  a  man,  who,  amidst  all  this  change,  can  maintain  his 
private  griefs  or  vexations  exactly  in  the  same  place  they  held  in  his 
heart  while  he  was  packing  for  his  journey." — Helps. 

|N  the  month  of  June  one  friend  tells  you  he 
is  going  to  Norway,  another  that  he  is  off 
to  St.  Petersburg — no  less  !  The  American 
refuses  to  be  "cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confin'd, 
bound  in  "  by  any  doubts  and  fears  whatever 
as  regards  distance  or  purse.  He  will  not  limit  himself  to 


TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE.  167 

any  one  country.  On  his  huge  iron-bound  boxes  is  painted 
the  indefinite  address — Europe.  Some  fancy  that  space 
ought  to  be  quite  annihilated  in  a  six  weeks'  holiday.  Itjs 
nothing  to  these  far-reachers  that  they  can,  in  this  time, 
touch  American  soil,  or  get  a  Pisgah  view  of  Palestine. 
Envying  the  telegraphic  message,  they  resent  the  fact  that 
stupid  men  of  science  have  not  yet  discovered  how  in  a  few 
moments  to  flash  tourists  to  the  antipodes  by  means  of  the 
latent  electricity  to  be  ground  out  of  Cook's  coupons.  . 

But  though  every  one  travels  in  these  days,  just  as  every 
one  reads,  there  are  as  few  good  travellers  as  there  are  good 
readers.  The  people  who  ask  at  lending  libraries  for  the 
very  newest  book  only  to  have  to  say  "  they  saw  it,  and 
liked  it,"  are  precisely  those  who  rush  to  and  fro  all  over 
the  earth,  and  return  as  empty  as  they  set  out.  Travelling 
is  either  useful  or  not  according  to  the  motive  with  which 
it  is  undertaken.  Some  there  are  whose  sole  object  is  to 
get  over  a  number  of  countries  just  to  have  to  say  they  were 
in  them.  Such  globe-trotters  neither  improve  themselves 
nor  increase  their  happiness.  They  never  do  anything  they 
themselves  care  for,  but  follow  conventionalism  as  the  best 
tourist's  guide.  They  admire  by  means  of  their  Baedekers 
and  Murrays,  and  are  "  charmed "  with  the  things  with 
which  they  ought  to  be  charmed.  In  picture  galleries  they 
do  not  look  at  the  pictures,  but  read  before  them  out  of  a 
guide-book,  for  the  sake  of  future  conversation,  a  short 
notice  of  the  birth  and  death  of  "  this  eminent  artist."  It 
has  been  said  that  "life  would  be  tolerable  but  for  its 
pleasures,"  and  in  their  heart  of  hearts  many  would  like 


168  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

going  on  the  Continent,  only  for  its  art-galleries,  museums, 
cathedrals,  and  objects  of  interest  generally.  "Hungry 
work  it  is  doing  pictures.  I  have  always  to  eat  two  steaks 
after  each  collection ;  besides,  it  tires  the  neck  so  !  " — this 
is  the  honest  confession  once  heard  by  the  writer  on  coming 
out  of  a  celebrated  gallery. 

In  most  instances  the  ostensible  object  of  holiday  travel- 
ling is  to  get  health  and  strength  for  the  winter's  work 
before  us,  but  many  are  considerably  more  fatigued  than 
refreshed  by  their  summer's  campaign.  When  starting  all 
seems  delightful,  and  it  is  only  the  experience  of  aching 
brains  and  bones  that  teaches  us  how  much  a  tour  of  sight- 
seeing takes  out  of  us.  What  busy  workers  want  in  a 
holiday  is  good  air,  and  total  absence  of  anxiety  and  fatiguing 
work.  Now  it  is  not  a  very  beneficial  change  from  the  air 
of  a  city  office  to  spend  six  or  eight  hours  daily  in  a  crowded 
railway  carriage.  Again,  can  there  be  more  anxious  work 
than  searching  for  new  quarters  each  night,  and  settling 
"  little  accounts  "  each  morning  ?  And,  oh  !  how  a  good 
" fleecing"  on  the  part  of  an  hotel-keeper,  in  the  morning 
can  take  from  the  loveliest  scenery  passed  through  during 
the  day  its  beauty  and  its  joy ! 

Nor  is  it  very  good  for  the  health  of  men  whose  habits  are 
sedentary  to  take  immense  walks  during  one  short  period — 
to  crowd  the  whole  year's  muscular  exercise  into  a  single 
month.  When  calculating,  too,  our  chances  of  obtaining 
health  and  pleasure  from  a  tour  abroad,  we  must  think  of 
the  nervous  irritation  involved  in  waiting  hours  past  our 
usual  meal-times,  of  never  being  sure  of  sleep  at  night — • 


TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE.  169 

suspecting,  as  we  must,  that  just  -as  we  have  dined  off 
fellow-creatures,  smaller  fellow- creatures  may  sup  off  us  ! — 
of  having  frequently  to  go  through  a  heated  argumentation, 
( or  else  submit  our  plans  to  those  of  our  companions  in 
travel,  or  travail. 

And  yet,  though  travelling  is  often  so  full  of  annoyances 
that  it  can  only  be  said  to  confer  happiness  on  those  blessed 
souls  who  expect  nothing,  much  might  be  said  on  the  score 
of  culture.  Though  the  foreigner  is  not  quite  like  Virtue, 
having  "  such  a  face,  and  such  a  mien,  as  to  be  loved  needs 
only  to  be  seen,"  he  is  now  discovered  by  thousands  each 
summer  to  be  not  at  all  that  barbarous  being  he  was  con- 
sidered by  many  of  our  ancestors,  only  because  they  had 
never  seen  him.  It  is  possible  to  go  "  on  the  continent " 
summer  after  summer  without  losing  a  single  prejudice,  but 
at  least  by  doing  so  we  have  a  chance  of  becoming  more 
catholic-minded.  Every  railway,  steam-boat,  and  telegraph 
wire  in  the  world  reveals  something  to  the  sympathetic,  of 
that  one  touch  of  nature  which  makes  the  whole  world 
kin(dred),  and  which  should  make  us  kind  and  liberal  in 
our  opinions  and  actions.  In  every  country  a  thousand 
objects  preach  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  brotherhood  of 
man,  and  unless  we  are  afflicted  with  the  church-goer's 
"  disease  of  not  marking  "  we  must  be  benefited.  But  how 
very  prevalent  is  this  disease  amongst  rushing,  scratch- 
surface,  yet  think-they-know-all-about-it  globe-trotters  !  If 
only  they  would  keep  their  eyes  and  ears  open,  travellers 
might  get  little  less  than  a  liberal  education  from  these 
frequent  tours  "on  the  continent."  But  no  !  they  visit  the 


1 70  " MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 


chief  towns,  and  flit  about  from  sight  to  sight.  And  then 
they  return,  having  seen  everything  and  yet  seen  nothing, 
for  of  any  real  insight  into  the  countries  visited  they  gain 
none.  ."Sir,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  to  a  fine  gentleman  just- 
returned  from  Italy,  "some  men  will  learn  more  in  the 
Hampstead  stage  than  others  in  the  tour  of  Europe." 
Ordinary  people  cannot  bring  on  their  tours  great  knowledge 
and  powers  of  observation.  We  are  not  scientists,  like  Sir 
Charles  Lyell,  of  whom  it  was  said,  by  those  who  had 
travelled  with  him,  "  That  to  see  him  hanging  out  of  the 
window  of  a  railway  carriage  to  watch  the  geological  forma- 
tions as  he  passed  through  a  railway  cutting,  was  as  if  he 
saw  the  sides  hung  with  beautiful  pictures."  Still,  we  petty 
men  can  learn  much  if  we  travel  open-eyed.  "  The  wise 
\  man's  eyes  are  in  his  head ;  but  the  fool  walketh  in 
darkness." 

The  golden  rule  of  travelling  with  advantage  is  to  make  our 
minds,  before  leaving  home,  perfect  blanks.  We  should  keep 
out  of  them  for  the  brief  period  of  our  holiday,  all  anxious 
thoughts  of  "  shop  "  and  everything  else  that  might  distract 
attention  from  the  instructive  book  of  foreign  countries.  See- 
ing thus  with  our  eyes,  and  hearing  with  our  ears,  we  shall 
not,  as  do  many  tourists,  return  home  with  recollections  as 
confused  as  the  colours  at  the  end  of  a  kaleidoscope.  Cer- 
tainly we  should  try  to  cultivate  our  tastes  and  to  enjoy 
beautiful  things  and  places ;  but  as  certainly  we  should  not 
make  a  labour  of  a  pleasure.  For  this  reason  we  should 
follow  our  real  desires  rather  than  conventional  got-up  ones. 
Why,  for  instance,  should  farmers  force  themselves  to  "  do  " 


TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE.  171 

picture  galleries,  and  pretend  to  love  church  architecture? 
Revenons  a  nos  moutons  should  be  their  motto.  If  a  man 
prefers  wandering  through  back  streets,  so  as  to  study  the 
manners,  or  want  of  manners,  of  the  inhabitants,  he  does 
not  commit  a  crime  in  staying  away  from  more  conventional 
sights.  Having  paid  your  money,  you,  yourself,  and  not 
other  people,  should  choose  your  "objects  of  interest." 
Don't  be  afraid  of  the  catechism  of  your  friends  on  returning 
home.  To  the  question,  "Have  you  seen  this  or  that?" 
there  is  no  disgrace  in  answering,  "  No,  I  did  not  care  to 
see  it."  We  shall  probably  learn  most  when  we  consult  our 
innocent  tastes,  and  if  a  holiday  become  a  bore,  instead  of 
recreating  worn-out  faculties,  our  money's  worth  shall  not 
be  obtained. 

For  the  sake  of  health  and  happiness  let  us  take  it  easy. 
One  mile  travelled  through  improvingly  and  with  comfort  is 
worth  a  hundred  "  done  "  in  forced  marches,  as  though  our 
object  were  to  accomplish  the  maximum  of  miles  in  the 
minimum  of  time. 

"Fret  not  thyself"  is  the  practical  advice  of  the  Psalmist 
which  should  be  laid  to  heart  by  tourists.  Have  you  made 
up  your  mind  to  spend  fifty  or  a  hundred  pounds  ?  Put 
the  money  in  your  pocket  and  return  when  it  is  expended. 
But  don't  grieve  about  every  supposed  overcharge,  or 
imagine  that  "  all  is  lost  "  when  a  single  shilling  cannot  be 
accounted  for,  and  that  therefore  "these  scenes"  are  no 
longer  "  so  charming."  Again,  many  tourists  are  slaves  of 
their  clothes,  and  are  too  anxious  about  bag  and  baggage  to 
enjoy  anything.  We  once  travelled  with  an  old  bachelor, 


1 72  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

who  was  much  disappointed  with  the  Alps.  Why?  He 
saw  them  not !  for  he  was  thinking  of,  and  boring  us  about, 
those  pills  he  had  forgotten  at  Paris  !  Nor  should  we  think 
back,  in  a  remorseful  way,  on  sights  we  have  missed  or 
mistakes  we  have  made.  "  Things  without  all  remedy 
should  be  without  regard." 

It  is  a  difficult  but  most  important  matter  to  find  a 
congenial  travelling  companion,  for  iron  sharpens  iron,  and 
joys  are  doubled  when  shared  with  a  sympathizing  friend. 
But  such  a  companion,  if  not  congenial,  will  often  force 
from  [us,  in  our  bitter  experience,  the  words,  "  Defend  us 
from  our  friends  ! " 

Travelling  companions  should  have,  as  nearly  as  possible, 
the  same  tastes  and,  above  all,  the  same  length  of  purse. 
Then,  we  must  never  think  of  travelling  with  people  who 
have  a  "  passion  "  for  this  or  that.  Does  our  companion 
care  for  nothing  on  earth  but  a  cathedral,  a  waterfall,  old 
ruins,  ancient  masters? — while  we  ourselves  care  for  nothing 
in  particular?  Then  we  shall  feel  far  from  happy,  leaving 
our  premeditated  route,  missing  our  dinner  hour,  spending 
money,  and  generally  boring  ourselves,  all  to  see  his  hobby. 
We  should  avoid  those  who  have  a  mania  for  fast  travelling. 
A  single  hour  spent  at  one  place,  though  it  be  as  interesting 
as  Rome  or  Pompeii,  is  more  than  enough  for  some  people. 
Watch  in  hand,  they  never  cease  to  complain  of  this 
"  creeping  train."  They  are  as  anxious  about  their  time  as 
are  sermon-listeners,  who,  though  they  do  nothing  on  their 
return  from  church,  grudge  every  moment  to  the  preacher. 

We  certainly  cannot  be  said  to  travel  with  advantage  unless 


TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE.  173 

either  happiness,  health,  or  culture,  is  increased  on  our 
return.  Many  people  during  a  tour  are  rather  playing  at 
happiness  than  enjoying  it.  Are  there  not  at  least  some 
busy  men  who,  if  they  were  not  afraid  of  falling  into  con- 
ventional heresy,  would  frankly  confess  that  their  conception 
of  a  holiday  is  very  different  from  the  usual  one  "  on  the 
continent "  ? — that  it  is  simply  to  stay  at  home,  a  creature  of 
habit,  surrounded  by  customary  comforts,  and  to  amuse 
themselves  doing  absolutely  nothing? 

It  is  an  amusing  sight,  when  staying  at  Dover,  in  the  end 
of  September,  to  watch  the  boats  coming  from  Calais.  What 
an  army  of  tourists  !  A  rather  sensational  display  of  ice- 
hatchets  and  Alpen-stocks  advertise  the  fact  that  their 
owners  are  lovers  of  scenery — unless,  indeed,  they  have 
climbed  the  Swiss  mountains  merely  for  the  sake  of  bringing 
home  conversational  material  for  the  next  "  season."  And 
who  can  say  whether  some  rich  Desdemona,  as  she  listens 
to  the  traveller's  tale  of  "most  disastrous  chances,  of  moving 
accidents  by  flood  and  field,  of  hair-breadth  'scapes,"  may 
not  "seriously  incline;"  give  Othello  for  his  pains  "a  world  of 
sighs;"  and  even  "love  him  for  the  dangers  (query:  lessened 
by  railways?)  he  has  passed?"  But  did  not  all  these  tourists 
"  go  on  the  continent "  for  the  sake  of  their  health  ?  and  if 
so,  why  do  they  look  so  pale  and  worn  ?  Why  do  they  give 
one  the  impression  that  they  are  returning  from  war,  rather 
than  from  a  pleasure  trip  ?  Is  it  because  they  have  slept 
in  their  clothes  for  a  night  or  two,  are  covered  with  the 
begriming  effects  of  steam-travelling,  and  are  still  suffering 
from  sea-sickness?  "Some  of  you,"  I  thought,  as  I  once 


1 74  " MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

stood  on  the  Admiralty  Pier,  in  proud  superiority  to  sea- 
sickness, watching  its  victims  coming  in  pairs  up  the  gangway 
steps,  "some  of  you  seem  to  have  missed  one  of  the  chief 
objects  of  travelling — health.  You  will  soon  get  over  your 
sea-sickness,  and  be  the  better  for  it ;  but  you  have  evidently 
worked  too  hard,  and  the  effects  of  that  will  last  much 
longer.  Had  you  taken  your  tour  more  easily,  you  would 
have  returned  from  it  refreshed,  instead  of  looking  quite 
worn  out,  as  you  do  now." 

One  object  of  travelling  should'  be  to  improve  our 
manners  by  intercourse  with  the  polite  foreigner,  and  to 
lay  up  a  stock  of  beautiful  thoughts  and  mental  pictures 
that  would  tend  to  elevate  our  conduct.  Instead  of  this 
too  many  seem  to  lose  what  little  manners  and  morals  they 
have  when  they  go  abroad.  They  copy  what  is  bad  in 
foreigners,  but  not  so  readily  what  is  good.  There  are 
travellers — 

"  Each  of  whom  just  enough  of  spirit  bears 
To  show  our  follies,  and  bring  home  theirs, 
They  make  all  Europe's  vices  so  well  known, 
They  seem  almost  as  nat'ral  as  our  own." 

Because  Mrs.  Grundy  is  a  stay-at-home  old  lady,  and  does 
not  accompany  them,  some  think  that  they  can  do  what 
they  like  when  abroad. 

A  bull  in  a  china  shop  is  nothing  compared  to  a  drove  of 
Protestant  tourists  in  an  Italian  church.  You  may  see, 
when  visiting  palaces,  a  huge  cockney  lolling  down  upon 
thrones  and  chairs  of  State,  and  full  of  self-complacency, 
imagining  himself  Victor  Emmanuel,  or  some  greater  man. 


TRAVELLING  WITH  ADVANTAGE.  175 

One  cannot  help  feeling  for  the  embarrassment  of  palatial 
attendants,  whose  politeness  prevents  them  forbidding 
irreverent  sightseers  from  "  touching "  fragile  ornaments, 
and  sitting  down  upon  almost  everything,  while  at  the  same 
time  their  duty  urges  them  to  remonstrate  with  commoners 
against  making  themselves  "  at  home  "  in  palaces  too  grand 
for  even  kings  to  feel  quite  at  their  ease  in. 

What  bad  manners  may  be  seen  in  tramway  cars  and 
railway  carriages  !  Here  selfishness  reigns  supreme.  Even 
a  bishop  will  act  a  lie  by  covering  three  or  four  vacant  seats 
to  make  believe  they  are  engaged.  People  who  would 
scorn  to  cheat  an  individual  have  no  objection  to  act  dis- 
honestly towards  a  railway  company.  It  goes  without 
saying,  that  there  is  no  advantage  in  travelling  if  we  allow 
our  manners  to  be  injured  by  it,  as  a  lady  known  to  us  did, 
of  whom  her  friends  remarked,  that  she  was  never  the 
same  after  a  certain  long  voyage. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ARE   OUR   MANNERS   AND    MORALS   PERFECT? 

"Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained,  either  were  already  per- 
fect."—6V.  Paul. 

"What  availeth  knowledge  without  the  fear  of  God?"—Imitatw 
Christi. 

[E  are  naturally  proud  of  the  reforms  that  have 
taken  place  in  the  age  in  which  we  live,  but 
it  may  be  doubted  whether  a  little  more  of 
the  sun  of  righteousness  is  not  wanted.  I 
believe  in  human  progress,  and  have  no 
sympathy  with  those  who  think  that  the  past  ages  were 
better  than  the  present.  When  I  read  of  the  cruel  amuse- 
ments of  our  great-grandfathers,  of  the  way  they  treated 
prisoners,  lunatics,  soldiers,  and  children,  of  their  drunken- 
ness and  dislike  of  even  the  external  use  of  water,  I  say  to 
myself,  "  What  brutes  they  were  ! "  It  is  hard  to  realize 
that  this  will  be  said  of  us  in  fifty  or  a  hundred  years,  for 
we  think  that  our  age  is  a  very  wonderful  one.  Do  we  not 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  177 

travel  fast,  telephone  the  most  trivial  message,  and  cover 
a  great  quantity  of  paper  with  print  ?  And  yet,  if  any  one 
— while  admitting,  as  of  course  he  must,  that  we  are  nearly 
perfect — were  to  say  that  in  manners  and  morals  we  are  not 
quite  perfect,  the  opinion  would  be  not  altogether  untenable. 
It  is,  for  instance,  not  so  very  absurd  to  argue  that  the 
young  people  of  our  time  would  be  no  worse  if  they  had  a 
little  more  reverence.  None  of  them  are  infallible,  not 
even  the  youngest ;  but  they  think  that  they  are,  and  this 
makes  it  very  difficult  for  them  to  honour  their  fathers  and 
mothers.  How  much  more  rational  it  seems  to  despise 
people  who  were  born  when  boys  did  not  smoke  cigarettes, 
and  girls  could  blush  and  were  not  slangy!  "May  I  be 
cut  into  ten  thousand  triangles,"  said  an  American  young 
lady,  "if  I  do  not  know  more  about  everything  than  my 
mother  ever  did  ! "  English  girls  and  boys  may  not  express 
themselves  as  plainly  about  their  own  enlightenment  and 
the  ignorance  of  their  parents,  but  they  believe  quite  as 
strongly  that  they  exist.  I  know  a  man  who  has  a  large 
and  prosperous  business,  which  he  meant  to  leave  to  his 
son,  but  the  son  would  not  take  the  trouble  of  learning  it, 
and  went  off  to  Australia,  where  he  did  no  good.  I  asked 
his  father  why  the  young  hopeful  deserted,  when  his  pros- 
pects were  so  good  and  it  was  his  duty  to  remain  at  home. 
A  reply  was  given  in  one  word — "  Vanity ; "  and  the  father 
went  on  to  explain  that  his  son,  believing  that  he  alone  was 
right  and  every  one  else  wrong,  would  not  carry  on  the 
business  as  he  was  -ordered  to  do  it  and  as  it  should 
be  done. 

12 


1 78  " MANNERS  MAKYTPI  MAN" 

frhis  want  of  reverence  for  everything  in  heaven  and 
earth  expresses  itself  in  a  disregard  for  the  feelings  of  others, 
which  is  the  essence  of  bad  manners.  At  a  crowded  as- 
sembly the  other  day  I  heard  an  elderly  lady  politely  asking 
a  young  one  if  she  might  sit  down  upon  a  chair  that  was 
beside  her.  "  No,  it  is  engaged,"  she  answered ;  which 
was  a  lie,  as  I  found  out  afterwards.  This  lady  would  have 
offered  the  chair  with  a  sweet  smile  if  she  had  been  in  the 
society  where  she  was  known ;  but  at  the  time  she  thought 
that  no  one  who  knew  her  was  observing,  so  her  selfish 
character  displayed  itself  in  being  rude  to  one  older  than 
herself.  A  gallant  colonel,  who  has  the  reputation  of  being 
"a  most  polished  man"  in  society,  was  asked  by  a  tired 
woman  with  a  child,  in  a  tramway  car,  to  move  up  and  give 
her  a  little  room.  I  was  told  by  one  who  saw  it  that  the 
officer,  looking  defiance  at  the  woman  of  the  "  lower  class," 
held  his  ground  as  firmly  as  no  doubt  he  would  against  his 
country's  enemies.  Reverence  for  the  aged,  and  for  woman 
as  woman,  is  evidently  not  in  fashion.  Children  now  speak 
to  their  parents  with  an  insolent  familiarity  which  would  be 
unbecoming  if  used  towards  a  young  schoolfellow.  No 
doubt  our  fathers  were  wrong  in  not  recognizing  the  fact 
that  children  have  rights ;  but  young  people  of  the  present 
day  are  equally  to  blame  when  they  forget  that  parents  also 
have  rights. 

"  Let  knowledge  grow  from  more  to  more, 
But  more  of  reverence  in  us  dwell." 

It  might  be  hinted  that  there  is  not  now  enough  of  that 
chivalrous  way  of  speaking  of  women  and  to  women  which 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  179 

characterizes  the  few  surviving  gentlemen  of  the  old  school 
or  old  fool  (as  their  juniors  would  say)  kind.  You  ask 
a  young  man  of  the  period  if  he  will  dance  with  a  lady,  or 
bring  her  down  to  supper.  "  Let  me  see  her,"  he  says, 
as  if  he  were  speaking  of  a  horse.  "  Ah  !  sorry ;  I  am  en- 
gaged," is  his  languid  reply,  and  to  a  giggling  male  friend 
he  gives  the  brief  explanation  of  his  refusal  in  these  words — 
"  Not  good  enough." 

It  is  true  that  these  young  men  have  in  many  cases  been 
spoiled  by  fast  girls,  who,  having  no  respect  for  themselves, 
did  not  exact  it  from  them.  If  young  women  have  "  not 
the  slightest  objection,  and  rather  like  it,"  men  'will  smoke 
into  their  faces,  appear  before  them  in  any  or  in  scarcely 
any  clothes,  call  them  by  their  Christian  names,  say  words 
and  refer  to  things  that  should  be  nameless,  and  in  all 
other  ways  illustrate  the  truth  that  men  respect  women  as, 
and  only  as,  women  respect  themselves. 

If  a  desire  to  be  married  banishes  maidenly  reserve,  it  is 
a  bad  day  indeed  for  both  men  and  women,  but  especially 
for  the  victims  of  their  own  carelessness. 

A  recent  issue  of  The  Spectator  contains  an  article  on  this 
prevalent  want  of  reserve,  from  which  we  extract  the  fol- 
lowing : — "  The  miserable  condition  in  which  two  brides 
have  recently  found  themselves  from  marrying  a  man  of 
whom  they  really  knew  nothing — one  the  prey  of  a  bigamist, 
and  the  other  the  wife  of  a  convict  under  a  false  name — is 
but  an  emphatic  exemplification  of  the  sort  of  trouble  that 
too  often  arises  in  our  age  of  too  rapid  intimacies  from  the 
loss  or  the  neglect  of  the  instinct  of  reserve." 


i8o  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

It  would  be  as  wise  to  drink  the  deadly  juices  of  the 
belladonna  because  of  the  beauty  of  the  nightshade's 
flowers  as  to  welcome  intimacy  with  many  of  those  whose 
manners  in  general  society  are  faultless  and  fascinating, 
without  knowing  anything  more  of  them  beyond  those  man- 
ners. Unless  the  man  has  been  seen  both  when  the  bow 
was  bent  and  when  it  was  relaxed,  he  has  not  been  really 
seen ;  and  the  same  is  true  of  the  deeper  character.  Unless 
the  character  has  been  seen  at  its  tensest,  as  well  as  at  its 
easiest,  it  has  not  been  truly  seen. 

So  far  as  the  man  himself  is  concerned,  it  would  be 
a  hundred  times  wiser  to  carry  a  lump  of  dynamite  about 
with  him  habitually,  than  to  marry  a  woman  of  whose  in- 
ward life  and  aims  he  knows  nothing  more  than  he  can 
learn  from  ordinary  drawing-room  intercourse ;  and  if  it 
would  be  a  hundred  times  wiser  for  the  man  to  do  so,  it 
would  be  a  thousand  times  wiser  for  the  woman,  who  is 
even  more  certain  to  be  crushed  under  the  weight  of  a 
miserable  marriage  than  the  man. 

The  disposition  to  be  agonizingly  delicate  is  well  ridi- 
culed in  the  following  : — "  Is  there  anything  the  matter  ?  " 
""There  is,  sir,"  was  the  host's  reply.  "  Have  I  given  any 
offence  ?  "  "  You  have,  sir."  "Really  I  am  ignorant  of  it." 
"  Such  language  won't  suit  here,  sir."  "  My  dear  sir,  what 
language?"  "We  were  talking  of  soup."  "We  were." 
" You  mentioned  ox-tail /  "  "I  did."  " That's  it,  that's  it, 
sir ;  that  sent  the  ladies  blushing  out  of  the  room— that's 
highly  improper  language,  which  I  never  heard  at  any  board 
before,  and  should  not  have  expected  from  you."  "Why, 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  181 

sir,  I  but  called  it  by  its  proper  name.  You  asked  a  ques- 
tion, and  I  replied.  I  am,  however,  sorry  that  it  has  given 
offence ;  but  I  really  do  not  know  how  I  could  have  avoided 
it"  "  Then,  sir,  I  advise  you,  when  you  have  an  occasion 
another  time  to  speak  of  that  particular  soup,  do  not  call  it 
ox-tail."  "  No  !  but  what  shall  I  call  it  ?  "  "  Fly  disperses" 
"  I  shall  remember  the  fly  disperser  soup,  sir,  rest  assured." 
If  this  sort  of  thing  may  be  laughed  at,  the  opposite  extreme, 
which  in  some  quarters  is  coming  into  fashion,  is  too  sad 
for  laughter.  To  the  disgrace  of  their  sex  so-called  ladies 
read  in  the  newspapers  the  most  horrible  details,  and  relish 
nothing  so  much  as  a  cause  celebre  in  the  Divorce  Court  So 
far  are  they  from  being  easily  sent  blushing  out  of  a  room 
that  they  cannot  be  kept  out  of  court  when  trials  are  going 
on  unfit  for  ladies  to  hear. 

Are  our  feelings  of  honour  as  sensitive  as  they  were  in 
days  when  wounds  and  death  were  the  consequences  of  dis- 
honourable acts  ?  Have  we  "  that  chastity  of  honour  which 
feels  a  stain  like  a  wound  "  ?  America  used  to  be  far  ahead 
of  us  in  public  dishonesty,  but  it  would  seem  from  recent 
disclosures  that  we  are  looking  up  and  following  our  go- 
ahead  cousins  in  that  direction.  People  think  that  Govern- 
ment is  an  abstraction  which  does  not  feel  when  it  is  cheated; 
but  Government  only  means  the  collective  body  of  tax- 
payers, each  of  whom  is  sensitive  to  suffering.  A  convict 
who  had  stolen  diamonds  considered  it  infra  dig.  and 
made  a  formal  complaint  because  he  had  to  associate  with 
low  thieves  who  steal  cabbage.  There  are  many  educated 
burglars  at  large  who  have  a  good  social  position,  and  are 


1 82  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN:9 

greatly  respected  for  two  reasons  :  first,  because  they  are 
clever  enough  not  to  be  caught;  and  secondly,  because 
their  operations  are  all  on  a  large  scale. 

The  other  day  an  advertisement  appeared  in  the  agony 
column  of  The  Times  which  was  pathetic  in  its  brevity — 
"E.  H.  wants  money."  This  is  a  common  want  with  us, 
for  we  have  more  luxurious  tastes  than  our  simple  fathers. 
Anything  for  a  little  money.  A  desire  to  obtain  "  the  need- 
ful" without  work,  and  a  craving  for  excitement,  have 
elevated  gambling  to  the  rank  of  a  besetting  sin  of  our  time. 
Young  men  who  hardly  know  whether  a  horse  has  three  or 
four  legs  have  their  "  favourites "  for  all  the  great  races. 
If  they  read  good  books  as  much  as  they  read  the  sporting 
papers,  they  would  be  well-informed  men.  The  professional 
book-maker  makes  short  work  of  Mr.  Verdant  Green,  who 
prides  himself  on  always  having  a  good  "  tip."  How  is  he 
to  pay  his  liabilities  ?  Ask  some  of  the  inmates  of  convict 
prisons.  He  takes  the  "  loan  "  of  money  that  has  been 
given  into  his  custody.  Our  young  men  are  always  saying 
that  they  cannot  afford  to  marry,  but  they  can — or  think 
that  they  can — afford  to  gamble ;  and — well,  there  is  much 
work  to  be  done  by  the  White  Cross  Purity  Society. 

We  often  speak  with  horror  of  the  indifference  of  our 
forefathers  to  human  life ;  but  our  fashionable  luxuries  are 
not  less  deadly  because  they  have  made  murder  "  a  fine 
art."  Parents  ought  to  be  the  last  persons  to  kill  their 
children,  and  yet  there  are  many  who  do  so.  Men  live 
what  in  bitter  irony  only  can  be  called  a  "  gay "  life,  and 
the  effect  of  their  dissipation  is  that  when  they  become 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  183 

fathers  they  see  those  children  to  whom  they  have  given 
life  die  by  means  of  themselves — killed  by  the  seeds  of  in- 
herited  disease.  There  are  mothers  who  break  their 
daughters'  hearts  by  urging  them,  against  their  will,  to  make 
a  "good  match."  How  many  parents,  again,  work  their 
children  to  death  by  stimulating  their  ambition  in  these 
days  of  getting  on,  as  if  life  were  not  more  than  meat,  or 
even  than  college  honours,  and  the  body  than  raiment,  or  a 
mind  crammed  with  omniscient  smattering  !  Nor  does  it 
make  much  difference  that  parents  do  not  kill  their  children 
themselves,  if  they  allow  others  to  do  so.  And  yet  when 
lazy  mothers  resign  their  place  entirely  to  nurses,  that  is  to 
say  to  hired  proxy  mothers  who  care  not  for  the  children, 
or  when  fathers  send  their  daughters  to  "  Establishments 
for  Young  Ladies,"  where  accomplishments  are  purchased 
at  the  price  of  health,  do  they  not  do  this  ? 

We  kill  each  other  by  immoral  thoughtlessness,  when  we 
help  to  keep  up  hurtful  fashions,  such  as  turning  night  into 
day  by  too  late  commencing  entertainments,  drinking  cus- 
toms in  business,  sacrificing  comfort  to  appearances,  rash 
money- speculating,  teaching  the  young  to  drink  and  gamble, 
if  not  by  precept,  at  least  by  example.  Nothing  is  more 
melancholy  than  to  walk  between  the  decks  of  a  turreted 
ship  of  war,  or  through  Woolwich  Arsenal,  for  in  these  places 
we  see  how  the  scientific  knowledge  of  the  world  as  well  as 
the  wealth  that  has  been  made  by  the  sweat  of  a  nation's 
brow  have  been  used  to  construct  gigantic  man-slaughtering 
machines.  But  sad  as  is  this  wilful,  designed  preparation 
for  slaughter,  the  list  of  those  actually  killed  and  wounded 


1 84  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

by  thoughtlessness  and  want  of  Christianity  is  not  at  all  less 
appalling. 

How  touching  the  lines  found  under  the  pillow  of  a 
wounded  soldier  in  the  American  War  : 

"  I  give  a  patient  God 
My  patient  heart !  " 

Ah,  if  our  Father  were  not  patient,  what  would  become  of 
us  ?  And,  if  He  be  so  long-suffering  with  our  great  trans- 
gressions, what  hinders  our  patience  with  our  brother's 
shortcomings  ?  The  more  we  know  of  mankind  the  more 
we  should  be  moved  to  patience  and  pity,  rather  than  re- 
proach. But  this  tolerance  which  should  be  felt  for  fellow- 
sinners  should  not  be  extended  to  sin,  as  too  often  it  is. 
"Neither  doth  he  abhor  that  which  is  evil"  describes  the 
attitude  of  many  a  man  in  these  days  of  spurious  toleration. 
Were  we  more  intolerant  of  what  is  morally  bad,  we  should 
be  more  tolerant  of  things  unessential.  Certainly,  if  the 
greatest  enemy  of  Christianity  is  vice,  controversy  will  have 
much  to  answer  for  if  she  waste  her  strength  on  things  too 
insignificant  to  be  noticed  in  a  sin-laden,  sorrowful  world. 
All  good  men  are  fighting  against  the  same  foe ;  why,  then, 
should  the  dust  of  their  own  word-war,  or  a  slightly  different 
uniform,  cause  them  to  mistake  one  another,  thus  wasting 
the  power  that  union  should  have  given  to  them  ? 

It  would  be  well  if  we  were  as  intolerant  of  vice  as  we 
are  of  an  unfashionable  hat,  or  of  anything  that  indicates 
individuality  and  freedom  from  the  tyranny  of  custom. 

"  Virtue  ivefaid  too  painful  an  endeavour,  *v 

Content  to  dwell  in  decencies  for  ever." 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  185 

Hell  is  no  longer  mentioned  to  ears  polite,  and  we  have  not 
even  a  devil  left  to  believe  in.  Our  preachers  are,  with  a 
few  honourable  exceptions,  as  mild  and  mealy-mouthed 
as  they  were  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  when  a  certain 
worthy  divine  at  Whitehall  thus  addressed  himself  to  the 
auditory  at  the  conclusion  of  his  sermon : — "  In  short,  if 
you  don't  live  up  to  the  precepts  of  the  gospel,  but  abandon 
yourselves  to  your  irregular  appetites,  you  must  expect  to 
receive  your  reward  in  a  certain  place  which  'tis  not  good 
manners  to  mention  here." 

We  must  ask  our  polite  readers  to  excuse  us  for  having 
given  in  this  chapter  a  few  illustrations  of  the  disagreeable 
truth  that  our  manners  and  morals  are  not  absolutely  per- 
fect. When  we  acknowledge  this  to  be  the  case,  and  do 
not  trust  to  steam  and  electricity  for  salvation,  we  take  the 
first  step  on  the  right  road.  In  one  of  Leech's  sketches 
one  omnibus  man  says  to  another,  "  You  call  yourself  a 
man  ?  I've  seen  a  better  man  than  you  made  out  of  tea- 
leaves  ! "  If  "  manners  makyth  man  "  (and  woman),  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  many  of  us  are  of  a  tea-leaf  composition. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


ONLY   TEMPER/ 


"  Like  those  who  burn  their  houses  and  themselves  within  them, 
anger  makes  all  things  within  full  of  confusion,  smoke,  and  noise  ;  so 
that  the  soul  can  neither  see  nor  hear  anything  that  might  relieve  it. 
Wherefore  sooner  will  an  empty  ship  in  a  storm  at  sea,  admit  of  a 
governor  from  without,  than  a  man,  tossed  with  anger  and  rage,  listen 
to  the  advice  of  another,  unless  he  have  his  own  reason  first  prepared 
to  entertain  it." — Plutarch. 

"  There  is  no  other  way  but  to  meditate  and  ruminate  well  upon  the 
effects  of  anger,  how  it  troubles  man's  life." — Bacon. 

|JN  reference  to  character,  temper  means  simply 
a  mixture  of  different  qualities.  The  quali- 
ties that  constitute  the  disposition  of  a  well- 
tempered  person  are  mixed  in  due  proportion. 
In  common  speech,  however,  the  word 
"temper,"  especially  when  used  without  an  adjective,  is 
restricted  in  meaning  to  the  passion  of  anger.  What  a  proof 
this  of  the  prevalence  of  bad  temper  ! 


« ONL Y  TEMPER"  1 87 

People  are  seldom  ashamed  of  having  bad  tempers,  as 
the  possession  of  a  weak  memory  does  not  lessen,  in  his 
own  opinion  at  least,  a  man's  intellectual  capacity.  "  Only 
temper  "  is  allowed  to  cover  a  multitude  of  sins,  just  as  the 
common  apology,  "  Excuse  me,  but  my  memory  is  such  a 
bad  one,"  is  supposed  to  be  perfectly  compatible  with 
intellectual  greatness. 

Some  people  seem  to  be  almost  proud  of  their  bad  tem- 
pers. They  delude  themselves  into  the  belief  that  anger 
is  a  proof  of  strength  of  character,  as  if  there  could  be  any 
real  power  in  the  absence  of  self-restraint  and  self-control. 
How  can  strength  of  mind  ever  be  manifested  by  anger, 
which  does  not  merely  "  displace  the  mind,  and  then  act 
dismal  things,"  but  which  absolutely  "  turns  reason  out  of 
doors,  and  bolts  the  door  against  it "  ?  True  strength  of 
character  does  not  show  itself  in  kicking  doors,  shouting  at 
a  helpless  wife,  scolding  servants,  or  brutally  flogging  a  horse 
when  too  old  to  run  away.  Many  can  kick  a  door  who 
would  eat  humble  pie  for  a  more  animated  antagonist ;  and 
real  force  of  character  is  far  more  clearly  seen  in  "  silent 
divine  action "  than  in  scolding  servants,  or  her  whom  an 
unmanly  man  looks  upon  as  an  upper  servant — his  wife. 
He  is  the  really  strong  man  who  is  master  of  himself  under 
all  circumstances.  "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than 
the  mighty ;  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh 
a  city." 

Bad  temper  grows  fat  upon  what  it  feeds,  that  is,  itself. 
When  long  indulged,  its  victim  receives  a  sort  of  melancholy 
pleasure  from  it,  and  hugs  it  to  his  heart,  unconscious  that 


i88  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

he  is  cherishing  a  serpent.  He  speaks  of  it  as  a  misfortune, 
and  apologises  to  his  friends  for  the  rudeness  and  injury  he 
has  inflicted  on  them,  by  saying,  "  But  you  know  my  temper 
is  so  warm,"  as  if  the  mere  fact  of  being  ill-tempered  were  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  it.  Anger,  sulkiness,  and  peevishness, 
which  last  is  generally  found  in  weak  natures,  and  means 
anger  about  trifles,  very  soon,  if  much  indulged,  render  the 
lives  of  their  victims  almost  unbearable  to  themselves  and 
others.  The  mind  becomes  ulcerated,  peevish,  and  queru- 
lous, and,  like  a  thin,  weak  plate  of  iron,  receives  impression, 
and  is  wounded  by  the  least  occurrence.  Rage  is  terrible, 
and  peevishness  is  ridiculous,  and  each  is  a  short  madness. 

It  is,  unfortunately,  only  too  true  that  a  man  with  a  bad 
temper  may  bully  himself  into  a  good  place,  and  gain  com- 
forts and  advantages  that  ought  to  belong  to  gentler  and 
better  men.  This  is  owing  to  the  indolence  of  most  people, 
who  prefer  to  give  a  cross  dog  a  bone  rather  than  fight  with 
him.  But  it  is  very  wrong,  and  even  very  unkind,  to  give 
up  everything  to  the  wishes  of  the  worst-tempered  member 
of  a  household.  Such  indulgence  only  aggravates  bad 
temper,  without  in  the  least  increasing  happiness,  for  the 
domestic  bully  soon  comes  to  a  condition  in  which  his  only 
pleasure  is  to  be  displeased. 

Yet  there  is  such  a  thing  as  innocent  anger.  "  Be  ye 
angry  and  sin  not."  Anger  is  a  natural  feeling  which  has 
been  given  to  us  as  a  preservative  against  injury.  It  is  not 
wrong  in  itself,  but  is  easily  abused  when  allowed  to  continue 
or  when  indulged  in  circumstances  which  do  not  warrant  it. 
'  Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath,"  or  at  least 


"  ONL  Y  TEMPER?  1 89 

wait  until  it  has  gone  down  before  you  write  or  speak.  We 
must  not  nurse  our  wrath  to  keep  it  warm.  Wise  anger  is 
like  fire  in  a  flint :  there  is  much  ado  to  get  it  out,  and  when 
it  is  out,  it  is  gone  immediately. 

Ill  health  is  sometimes  a  valid  excuse — when  it  is  not 
brought  on  by  any  fault  of  our  own — for  bad  temper.  We 
do  not  believe  in  such  a  thing  as  over-work,  but  there  is 
over-effort ;  and  there  are  wrong  methods  of  working  that 
ruin  temper  by  weakening  the  nervous  system.  Again,  our 
tempers  and  livers  act  and  re-act  on  each  other.  While  a 
sluggish  liver  causes  peevishness,  nothing  is  so  good  for  the 
health  of  that  organ  as  the  habit — worth  for  every  reason 
ten  thousand  pounds  a  year — of  looking  on  the  bright  side 
of  things.  There  is  much  rough  truth  in  the  often  quoted 
saying  of  Dr.  Johnson,  to  the  effect  that  every  sick  person 
"  is  a  villain."  Sickness,  as  a  rule,  makes  a  man  bad-tem- 
pered and  unsociable.  He  feels  that  he  has  "  nerves,"  and 
makes  others  feel  the  same.  An  organ  is  said  to  be  in 
perfect  health  when  we  are  unconscious  of  possessing  it. 
How  few  men  and  how  very  few  women  are  to  be  found  in 
these  days  who  live  so  wisely  that-  they  never  become  con- 
scious of  "  nerves  !  " 

But  whatever  our  illness  may  be,  nothing  aggravates  it  so 
much  as  bad  temper.  On  a  recent  occasion  I  visited  daily 
a  man  recovering  from  a  bad  attack  of  typhoid  fever.  He 
was  the  worst  patient  I  ever  saw — a  very  impatient.  His 
peevish  language  to  the  attendants,  who  were  doing  their 
best  for  him,  was  most  revolting.  And  as  this  bad  temper 
brought  on  a  relapse,  it  very  nearly  cost  him  his  life.  In 


190  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN* 

every  other  respect  the  person  alluded  to  is  most  estimable ; 
but  that  which  is  lightly  spoken  of  as  "only  temper"  is 
making  his  life  a  failure,  and  cannot  but  mar  for  himself  and 
fiancee  the  married  state  into  which  he  is  about  to  enter. 

As  none  of  us  are  very  much  in  love  with  our  bad  tem- 
pers, let  us  see  if  there  are  any  devices  that  may  assist  us 
to  overcome  them.  First  of  all,  we  should  get  to  know  the 
kind  of  things  that  provoke  us.  Forewarned  by  experience, 
we  shall  be  forearmed  and  prepared  to  resist  the  temptation 
of  speaking  or  acting  during  the  first  moments  of  excite- 
ment. To  prevent  our  doing  this,  it  has  been  suggested 
that  before  speaking  in  anger  we  should  repeat  to  ourselves 
the  alphabet,  or  count  over  a  series  of  numbers.  "  For  as 
he  that  adds  no  fuel  to  fire  hath  already  as  good  as  put  it 
out,  so  he  that  doth  not  feed  anger  at  the  first,  nor  blow 
the  fire  in  himself,  hath  prevented  and  destroyed  it."  If 
anger  arises  in  your  breast,  instantly  seal  up  your  lips,  and 
let  it  not  go  forth ;  for,  like  fire,  when  it  has  no  vent,  it  will 
suppress  itself.  Be  careful,  therefore,  to  lay  up  beforehand  a 
stock  of  reason  and  religious  consideration,  that,  like  a 
besieged  town,  you  may  be  provided  for,  and  be  defensible 
from  within,  since  you  are  not  likely  to  be  relieved  from 
without. 

"  As  small  letters  hurt  the  sight,"  says  Plutarch,  "  so  do 
small  matters  him  that  is  too  much  intent  upon  them ;  they 
vex  and  stir  up  anger,  which  begets  an  evil  habit  in  him  in 
reference  to  greater  affairs."  Hence  it  will  be  a  check  on 
temper  to  try  and  keep  the  large  issues  of  life  before  our 
eyes.  Epictetus,  the  wise  slave,  tells  us  that  "everything 


"  ONL  Y  TEMPER?  1 9 1 

has  two  handles  " — by  the  one  it  can  be  easily  carried ;  by 
the  other,  not  at  all.  Thus,  if  your  brother  has  injured  you, 
do  not  take  hold  of  this  event  on  the  side  of  the  injury,  for 
that  handle  will  not  support  it — it  is,  as  we  say,  intolerable 
—but  take  hold  of  it  by  the  other  handle,  and  say,  "  Well, 
he  is  my  brother,  after  all ;  we  were  brought  up  together  in 
the  same  house." 

Some  people  cultivate  their  taste  only  on  the  side  that  is 
turned  towards  evil.  Good  taste  is  to  them  the  same  as 
fault-finding  and  fastidiousness.  A  gentleman  was  once 
mentioned  to  Daniel  Webster  as  being  "  a  man  of  very  fine 
tastes."  "  I  think  him  a  man  of  very  fine  distastes,"  re- 
plied Webster.  True  taste  consists  in  a  relish  for  good 
things — in  the  power  which  finds  beauty  everywhere.  The 
best  taste  is  a  generous  sentiment,  rejoicing  not  in  iniquity, 
bearing  all  things,  and  thinking  no  evil.  It  takes  hold  of 
everything  by  the  handle  of  beauty  and  goodness,  and  finds 
them  in  all  things.  It  might  save  us  from  peevish  temper 
if  we  enumerated  more  frequently  to  ourselves  the  many 
blessings  we  enjoy,  and  the  many  terrible  afflictions  we  do  not 
suffer.  Does  any  little  thing  annoy  us  ?  Let  us  think  how 
much  worse  it  would  be  for  us  if  we  had  to  endure  cancer, 
blindness,  insanity,  or  any  other  of  the  thousand  maladies 
which  at  this  moment  many  better  men  than  ourselves  are 
enduring  with  patience.  We  should  often  ask  ourselves  how 
much  worse  we  might  be,  instead  of  how  much  better. 

Good  temper,  it  has  been  said,  is  nine-tenths  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  and  certainly  the  grumbling  of  discontent,  and  the 
loud  shouting  of  anger,  constitute  a  Te  Deum^  which  is  in 


192  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

very  bad  harmony  with  the  blessings  which  our  heavenly 
Father  showers  continually  upon  our  heads.  Surely  He  did 
not  cover  the  earth  with  flowers,  paint  the  sky,  make  the 
'birds  musicians,  and  give  the  power  of  laughter,  and  kind 
friends  to  laugh  with,  in  order  that  we,  by  our  bad  tempers 
and  melancholy,  should  pronounce  the  world  to  be  "  very 
bad,"  which  He  has  made,  and  pronounced  to  be  "  very 
good." 

The  habit  of  fretful  fault-finding,  if  too  long  indulged,  may 
end  in  madness.  We  all  feel  sympathy  for  one  who  has 
become  demented  from  loss  of  friends,  from  disappointment, 
or  from  a  hard  lot  in  life;  but  we  can  have  no  such  feeling 
for  grumbling  creatures,  who  make  those  whose  calamity  it 
is  to  be  bound  to  them  as  miserable  as  themselves. 

In  his  "  Letter  to  Young  Girls,"  Mr.  Ruskin  thus  writes : 
"  Keep  absolute  calm  of  temper,  under  all  chances ;  receiv- 
ing everything  that  is  provoking  or  disagreeable  to  you  as 
coming  directly  from  Christ's  hand  :  and  the  more  it  is  like 
to  provoke  you,  thank  Him  for  it  the  more ;  as  a  young 
soldier  would  his  general  for  trusting  him  with  a  hard  place 
to  hold  on  the  rampart.  And  remember,  it  does  not  in  the 
least  matter  what  happens  to  you — whether  a  clumsy  school- 
fellow tears  your  dress,  or  a  shrewd  one  laughs  at  you,  or 
the  governess  doesn't  understand  you.  The  one  thing  needful 
is  that  none  of  these  things  should  vex  you.  For  your  mind, 
at  this  time  of  your  youth,  is  crystallizing  like  sugar-candy ; 
and  the  least  jar  to  it  flaws  the  crystal,  and  that  permanently." 

Certainly  a  person  without  any  temper  is  not  greatly 
respected.  People  impose  upon  milk-and-water  good 


"  ONLY  TEMPER."  193 

nature,  and  are  afterwards  angry  with  the  weak  simpleton 
who  has  allowed  them  to  take  liberties  and  misbehave.  We 
like  the  strong  hand  and  will  that  can  make  us  go  right. 
"  Be  not  too  sweet,"  says  an  Afghan  proverb,  "  else  men 
will  eat  you ;  be  not  too  bitter,  else  men  will  loathe  you." 
This  happy  medium,  that  avoids  the  extremes  of  weakness 
and  exactingness,  is  the  sort  of  temper  that  best  qualifies  a 
man  for  the  world's  business. 


CHAPTER  XX, 

• 

"ONLY  TRIFLES." 

0  Think  naught  a  trifle,  though  it  small  appear  J 
Small  sands  the  mountain,  moments  make  the  year, 
And  trifles  life." — Young. 

"  All  service  is  the  same  with  God — 
With  God,  whose  puppets,  best  and  worst, 
Are  we  ;  there  is  no  last  nor  first. 
There  is  no  great,  there  is  no  small 
To  the  soul  that  maketh  all." — Browning. 

jHEN  tempted  to  scorn  the  little  duties  of 
our  calling,  let  us  think  of  such  sayings  as 
the  following.  One  day  a  visitor  at  Michael 
Angelo's  studio  remarked  to  that  great 
artist,  who  had  been  describing  certain  little 
finishing  "touches"  lately  given  to  a  statue — "But  these 
are  only  trifles."  "  It  may  be  so,"  replied  the  sculptor ;  "  but 
recollect  that  trifles  make  perfection,  and  perfection  is  no 


« ONLY  TRIFLES:*  195 

trifle."  In  the  same  spirit  the  great  painter  Poussin  ac- 
counted for  his  reputation  in  these  words — "  Because  I  have 
neglected  nothing."  It  is  related  of  a  Manchester  manu- 
facturer, that,  on  retiring  from  business,  he  purchased  an 
estate  from  a  certain  nobleman.  The  arrangement  was  that 
he  should  have  the  house  with  all  its  furniture  just  as  it 
stood.  On  taking  possession,  however,  he  found  that  a 
cabinet  which  was  in  the  inventory  had  been  removed ;  and 
on  applying  to  the  former  owner  about  it,  the  latter  said  : 
"  Well,  I  certainly  did  order  it  to  be  removed ;  but  I  hardly 
thought  you  would  have  cared  for  so  trifling  a  matter  in  so 
large  a  purchase."  "  My  lord,"  was  the  reply,  "  if  I  had  not 
all  my  life  attended  to  trifles,  I  should  not  have  been  able  to 
purchase  this  estate ;  and  excuse  me  for  saying  so,  perhaps 
if  your  lordship  had  cared  more  about  trifles,  you  might  not 
have  had  occasion  to  sell  it."  "  Oh,  what's  the  good  of 
doing  this  and  that  ?  "  we  say  in  reference  to  departments  of 
our  business  where  quick  returns  are  not  forthcoming,  or 
where  success  does  not  at  once  stare  us  in  the  face.  When 
Franklin  made  his  discovery  of  the  identity  of  lightning  and 
electricity,  people  of  this  baser  sort  asked  with  a  sneer, 
"  Of  what  use  is  it  ?  "  The  philosopher's  retort  was  :  "  What 
is  the  use  of  a  child  ?  It  may  become  a  man  ! "  Apropos 
of  this  remark,  grown-up  people  should  remember,  while 
doing  improper  things  in  the  presence  of  him  who  is  "only 
a  child,"  that  he  will  one  day  become  a  man  just  like  them- 
selves. 

Mr.   Careless   Nevermind  and  Miss  Notparticular  think 
that  great  men  only  deal  with  great  things.     The  most  bril- 


196  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

liant  discoverers  were  of  a  different  opinion.  They  made 
their  discoveries  by  observing  and  interpreting  simple  facts. 
When  fools  were  walking  in  darkness,  the  eyes  of  these  wise 
men  were  in  their  heads.  Galileo's  discovery  of  the  pendu- 
lum was  suggested  to  his  observant  eye  by  a  lamp  swinging 
from  the  ceiling  of  Pisa  Cathedral.  A  spider's  net  sus- 
pended across  the  path  of  Sir  Samuel  Brown,  as  he  walked 
one  dewy  morning  in  his  garden,  was  the  prompter  that 
gave  to  him  the  idea  of  his  suspension  bridge  across  the 
Tweed.  So  trifling  a  matter  as  the  sight  of  seaweed  floating 
past  his  ship  enabled  Columbus  to  quell  the  mutiny  which 
arose  amongst  his  sailors  at  not  discovering  land,  and  to 
assure  them  that  the  eagerly  sought  New  World  was  not  far 
off.  Galvani  observed  that  a  frog's  leg  twitched  when  placed 
in  contact  with  different  metals,  and  it  was  this  apparently 
insignificant  fact  that  led  to  the  invention  of  the  electric 
telegraph.  While  a  bad  observer  may  "  go  through  a  forest 
and  see  no  firewood,"  a  true  seer  learns  from  the  smallest 
things  and  apparently  the  most  insignificant  people.  Cer- 
tainl)%the  power  of  little  things  can  never  be  denied  by 
Englishmen  who  reflect  that  the  chalk  cliffs  of  their  island 
have  been  built  up  by  little  animals — detected  only  by  the 
help  of  the  microscope — of  the  same  order  of  creatures  that 
have  formed  the  coral  reefs. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  England  owes  her 
reputation  of  being  the  best  workshop  in  Europe  not  so 
much  to  the  fact  that  she  is  rich  in  coal  and  iron,  as  because 
her  workmen  put,  or  used  to  put,  a  good  finish  on  their 
work.  A  country  must  become  and  continue  great  when  its 


"  ONLY  TRIFLES"  197 

* 

labourers  work  honestly,  paying  attention  to  detail,  putting 
conscience  into  every  stone  they  place  and  into  every  nail 
they  drive.  There  is  no  fear  of  England  declining  so  long 
as  it  can  be  said  of  her  workers  what  was  said  of  the  Old 
Masters  in  statuary,  painting,  and  cathedral-building : 

"  In  the  elder  days  of  art, 

Builders  wrought  with  greatest  care 
Each  minute  and  unseen  part, 
For  the  Gods  see  everywhere." 

How  much  of  this  honest  workmanship,  that  careth  for  little 
things  and  not  merely  for  the  large  and  showy,  is  to  be  seen 
on  the  roof  of  Milan  Cathedral !  Here  the  smallest  and 
least  visible  statue  of  the  statue  forest  that  tops  the  building 
is  carved  with  quite  as  great  care  as  the  largest  and  most 
conspicuous. 

It  has  been  remarked  that  we  cannot  change  even  a 
particle  of  sand  on  the  sea-shore  to  a  different  place  without 
changing  at  the  same  time  the  balance  of  the  globe.  The 
earth's  centre  of  gravity  will  be  altered  by  the  action,  in  an 
infinitely  small  degree  no  doubt,  but  still  altered  ;  and  upon 
this  will  ensue  climatic  changes  which  may  influence  people's 
temperaments  and  actions.  Of  course  this  is  an  absurd 
refinement ;  but  it  illustrates  the  undoubted  fact  that  the 
most  trivial  thought  and  act  carries  with  it  a  train  of  con- 
"sequences  the  end  of  which  we  may  never  guess.  The 
veriest  trifles  become  of  importance  in  influencing  our  own 
or  other  people's  lives  and  characters.  One  look  may 
marry  us.  Our  profession  may  be  settled  for  us  by  the  most 
trivial  circumstance.  "A  kiss  from  my  mother,"  said  West, 


198  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

« 

"  made  me  a  painter."  Going  into  an  inn  for  refreshment,  Dr. 
Guthrie  saw  a  picture  of  John  Pounds  the  cobbler  of  Ports- 
mouth teaching  poor  ragged  children  that  had  been  left  by 
ministers,  ladies,  and  gentlemen  to  go  to  ruin  on  the  streets. 
The  sight  of  this  picture  hanging  over  the  chimney-piece  on 
that  day  made  Dr.  Guthrie  the  founder  of  ragged  schools. 

On  a  clock  in  one  of  the  Oxford  colleges  is  inscribed  this 
solemn  warning  to  those  who  fancy  that  killing  time  is  not 
murder :  Periunt  et  imputantur  ("the  hours  perish  and  are 
laid  to  our  charge  ").  But  is  not  this  equally  true  of  those 
"  odd  moments  "  during  which  we  say  it  is  not  worth  while 
commencing  or  finishing  anything  ?  Dr.  Smiles  tells  us  that 
Dr.  Mason  Good  translated  Lucretius  while  driving  from 
patient's  house  to  patient's  house;  that  Dr.  Darwin  com- 
posed nearly  all  his  works  in  the  same  way ;  that  Hale 
wrote  his  "Contemplations"  while  travelling  on  circuit; 
that  Elihu  Burritt,  while  earning  his  living  as  a  blacksmith, 
mastered  eighteen  ancient  languages  and  twenty-two  Euro- 
pean dialects  in  "  odd  moments ; "  that  Madame  de  Genlis 
composed  several  of  her  volumes  while  waiting  for  the 
princess  to  whom  she  gave  daily  lessons.  Kirke  White 
learned  Greek  and  J.  S.  Mill  composed  "  Logic  "  as  they 
walked  to  their  offices.  Many  of  us  get  into  a  fuss  if 
dinner  be  not  to  the  moment.  Not  so  did  D'Aguesseau, 
one  of  the  greatest  Chancellors  of  France,  act.  He  used 
this  mauvais  quart  dheure,  for  he  is  said  to  have  written  a 
large  and  able  volume  in  the  intervals  of  waiting  for  dinner. 
Wellington's  achievements  were  mainly  owing  to  the  fact 
that  he  personally  attended  to  such  minutiae  as  soldiers' 


"  ONLY  TRIFLES."  199 

shoes,  camp-kettles,  biscuits,  horse-fodder ;  and  it  was  be- 
cause Nelson  attended  to  detail  in  respect  of  time  that  he 
was  so  victorious.  "I  owe,"  he  said,  "all  my  success  in 
life  to  having  been  always  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  my 
time."  ' '  Every  moment  lost,"  said  Napoleon,  "  gives  an 
opportunity  for  misfortune.''  Well  would  it  have  been  for 
himself — as  his  bitter  end  proved — had  this  European  bully 
known  another  fact — that  every  moment  selfishly  employed 
is  worse  than  lost,  and  "gives  an  opportunity  for  misfor- 
tune ! "  However,  he  attributed  the  defeat  of  the  Austrians 
to  his  own  greater  appreciation  of  the  value  of  time.  While 
they  dawdled  he  overthrew  them. 

It  may  be  said  that  "  it  is  the  pace  that  kills — that  people 
nowadays  are  more  prone  to  wear  themselves  out  by  over- 
working than  to  rust  unused."  But  is  it  not  over-anxiety 
and  want  of  method,  rather  than  overwork,  that  kills  us  ? 
Methodical  arrangement  of  time  is  like  packing  things  in  a 
box  :  a  good  packer  will  get  in  half  as  much  again  as  a  bad 
one. 

Little  words  and  acts  far  more  than  great  ones  reveal  the 
manner  of  a  man.  No  one — in  Great  Britain  at  least — 
could  be  such  a  Goth  as  to  rest  his  heels  on  the  mantel- 
piece or  to  spit  when  sitting  in  the  company  of  ladies  round 
a  fire.  It  is  not,  however,  given  to  all  to  continue  sinless  as 
regards  those  many  little  things  that  mark  the  naturally 
refined  man.  Women  are  said  to  be  better  readers  of 
character  than  men,  and  perhaps  the  reason  is  this  :  cha- 
racter is  shown  by  minutiae,  and  the  fine  intuition  or  mental 
sharp-sightedness  by  which  these  are  discerned  belongs  to 
women  in  a  greater  degree  than  to  men. 


200  « MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

Without  caring  in  the  smallest  degree  for  goodness,  we 
may  avoid  crime  and  gross  sin  because  of  the  police,  or 
because  we  desire- to  get  on  in  the  world,  or  because  we  are 
afraid  of  ridicule.  The  test,  therefore,  of  a  fine  character  is 
attention  to  the  minutiae  of  conduct.  Nor  does  the  per- 
formance of  those  large  duties,  which  are  almost  forced 
upon  us,  prove  our  love  to  God  or  to  man  nearly  so  con- 
vincingly as  do  the  little  commonplace  services  of  love — 
the  cheerful  word,  the  cup  of  cold  water — when  rendered 
not  grudgingly  or  of  necessity. 

Life  is*  made  up  of  little  incidents  rather  than  of  brilliant 
achievements.  And  it  is  mainly  upon  littles  that  the  peace 
and  comfort  of  society,  and  especially  of  our  homes,  depend. 

*'  Little  deeds  of  kindness,  little  words  of  love, 
Make  the  earth  an  Eden,  like  the  heaven  above.'* 

"The  greatest  evils  in  life,"  says  Bishop  Butler,  "have 
had  their  rise  from  somewhat  which  was  thought  of  too 
little  importance  to  be  attended  to."  And  when  we  analyze 
the  lives  of  those  who  have  ruined  themselves  morally,  we 
generally  discover  that — 

••  It  was  the  little  rift  within  the  lute 

That,  ever  widening,  slowly  silenced  all ; 
Or  little  pitted  speck  in  garnered  fruit, 
That,  rotting  inward,  slowly  mouldered  all." 

By  little  foxes  tender  grapes  are  destroyed,  according  to 
Solomon  :  "  Take  us  the  foxes,  the  little  foxes,  that  spoil 
the  vines :  for  our  vines  have  tender  grapes "  (Solomon's 
Song  ii.  15).  Little  foxes  are  very  cunning,  and  most 


"  ONL  Y  TRIFLES."  201 

difficult  to  catch;  and  so  are  those  little  .temptations  by 
which  our  moral  natures  are  gradually  eaten  away.  The 
tender  grapes  of  many  a  Christian  branch  are  destroyed  by 
such  little  foxes  as  temper,  discontent,  avarice,  vanity. 

Many  who  could  resist  much  greater  sins  yield  to  these. 
There  is  an  excitement  in  the  very  greatness  of  the  trial  or 
temptation  which  enables  us  to  resist  it;  while  the  chase 
after  little  foxes  is  dull  and  uninteresting. 

St.  Paul  enumerates  nine  kinds  of  spiritual  fruit  that 
ought  to  be  found  on  every  Christian  branch — love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness, 
temperance.  These  tender  grapes  are  destroyed  by  little 
foxes  rather  than  by  large  beasts  of  prey. 

To  be  "  Mistress  of  herself,  though  china  fall,"  is  con- 
sidered the  hardest  test  of  woman's  temper ;  while,  in  the 
case  of  men,  gentleness  is  sometimes  destroyed  for  a  moment 
by  such  a  little  fox  as  that  irritating  one  called  "button  off 
shirt." 

Peevishness,  if  not  caught  and  put  an  end  to,  is  a  little 
fox  that  will  soon  render  love,  joy,  and  peace  impossible. 

Avarice  will  destroy  gentleness  and  goodness.  If  the 
little  fox  called  discontent  be  not  chased  away,  it  will  spoil 
the  tender  grapes  of  long-suffering  and  faith.  Meekness  is 
endangered  by  self-righteousness  and  every  form  of  pride. 

And  as  regards  temperance,  let  us  beware  of  social  drink- 
ing customs,  extravagant  living,  and  every  other  little  fox  by 
which  self-reverence  and  self-control  are  destroyed. 

There  is  one  way,  and  one  way  only,  of  preventing  the 
tender  fruit  or  the  spirit  from  being  destroyed  by  these  little 


202  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

foxes.  We  must  listen  to  the  gentle  encouraging  voice  of 
Him  who  said  :  "Abide  in  Me  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch 
cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine  ;  no 
more  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  Me.  I  am  the  vine,  ye 
are  the  branches :  he  that  abideth  in  Me,  and  I  in  him,  the 
same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit ;  for  without  Me  ye  can  do 
nothing."  But  (to  change  the  metaphor)  we  may  say  with 
Mr.  Ruskin,  "  Most  people  think,  if  they  keep  all  the  best 
rooms  in  their  hearts  swept  and  garnished  for  Christ,  that 
they  may  keep  a  little  chamber  in  their  heart's  wall  for 
Belial  on  his  occasional  visits ;  or  a  three-legged  stool  for 
him  in  the  heart's  counting-house ;  or  a  corner  for  him  in 
the  heart's  scullery,  where  he  may  lick  the  dishes.  It 
won't  do  !  You  must  cleanse  the  house  of  him,  as  you 
would  of  the  plague,  to  the  last  spot.  You  must  be  resolved 
that  as  all  you  have  shall  be  God's,  so  all  you  are  shall  be 
God's." 

How  many  people  are  almost  successful,  missing  their 
aim  by  "  Oh,  such  a  little  !  "  Minutise  in  these  cases  make 
or  mar  us.  "  If  I  am  building  a  mountain,"  said  Confucius, 
"  and  stop  before  the  last  basketful  of  earth  is  placed  on  the 
summit,  I  have  failed."  The  examination  is  lost  by  half  a 
mark.  One  neck  nearer  and  the  race  would  have  been 
won.  The  slightest  additional  effort  would  have  turned  the 
tide  of  war.  "Thou  art  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God," 
were  solemn  words,  marking  the  terrible  difference  between 
almost  and  altogether. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


MISAPPLIED    VIRTUES. 

"  Nor  aught  so  good,  but,  strain'd  from  that  fair  use, 
Revolts  from  true  birth,  stumbling  on  abuse  : 
Virtue  itself  turns  vice,  being  misapplied." 

— Shakespeare,  "  Romeo  and  Jtiliet" 

IHAKESPEARE  tells  us  that  "virtue  itself 
turns  vice,  being  misapplied."  From  this 
text  we  would  draw  attention  to  the  often- 
forgotten  fact,  that  the  best  and  most  beau 
tiful  points  of  character  may  develop  into 
if  cultivated  without  pruning,  or  in  the 
absence  of  counterbalancing  qualities.  A  man  cannot  be 
too  virtuous;  but  there  may  be  a  want  of  proportion  be- 
tween the  good  qualities  of  his  mind  and  heart.  How  few 
have  well-balanced  minds — how  few  have  their  feelings 
under  proper  control !  What  is  a  good  temper  but  a 
mixture  of  qualities  in  due  proportion  ?  Where  this  due 


monstrosities, 


204  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN. 

proportion  is  wanting,  the  temper  and  disposition  become 
perverted  and  bad.  Almost  all  vices  are  the  exaggeration 
of  virtues — "  virtues  misapplied." 

As  an  illustration  of  this  principle,  let  us  take  that  faculty, 
by  which  we  conceive  and  long  after  perfection,  and  see 
how  even  such  a  beautiful  quality  as  Ideality  may,  if  too 
exclusively  cultivated,  drag  down  rather  than  elevate  its 
possessor.  This  divine  Ideality,  more  than  anything  else, 
distinguishes  man's  nature  from  that  of  the  brute.  From 
it  springs  the  dissatisfaction  with  present  attainments,  pos- 
sessions, and  performances,  which  induces  us  to  strain  after 
higher  ones.  To  make  us  dissatisfied  with  the  actual,  and 
to  spur  us  on  continually  after  something  for  ever  desirable, 
yet  for  ever  receding — this  is  the  office  of  Ideality.  But 
every  faculty  has  its  instinctive,  wild  growth,  which,  like  the 
spontaneous  produce  of  the  earth,  is  crude  and  weedy. 
Revenge,  says  Bacon,  is  a  sort  of  wild  justice;  obstinacy  is 
untutored  firmness,  and  so  exactingness  is  untrained  Ide- 
ality ;  and  a  very  great  amount  of  misery,  social  and 
domestic,  comes  not  from  the  faculty,  but  from  its  untrained 
exercise.  The  faculty  which  is  ever  conceiving,  and  desiring 
something  better  and  more  perfect,  must  be  modified  in  its 
action  by  good  sense,  patience,  and  conscience,  otherwise  it 
induces  a  morbid,  discontented  spirit,  which  courses  through 
the  veins  of  individual  and  family  life  like  a  subtle  poison. 

An  exacting  person  is  one  who  fusses,  fumes,  finds  fault, 
and  scolds,  because  everything  is  not  perfect  in  an  imper- 
fect world.  Much  more  happy  and  good  is  he  whose  con- 
ceptions and  desire  of  excellence  are  equally  strong,  but  in 


MISAPPLIED  VIRTUES.  205 

whom  there  is  a  greater  amount  of  discriminating  common 
sense.  A  sensible  man  does  not  make  himself  unhappy 
because  he  is  unable  to  fly  like  a  bird  or  swim  like  a  fish. 
Common  sense  teaches  him  that  these  accomplishments  are 
so  utterly  unattainable,  that  they  should  not  be  desired. 

Most  people  can  see  what  is  faulty  in  themselves  and  their 
surroundings ;  but  while  the  dreamer  frets  and  wears  him- 
self out  over  the  unattainable,  the  happy,  practical  man  is 
satisfied  with  what  can  be  attained.  There  was  much 
wisdom  in  the  answer  given  by  the  principal  of  a  large 
public  institution,  when  complimented  on  his  habitual 
cheerfulness  amid  a  diversity  of  cares — "  I've  made  up  my 
mind,"  he  said,  "  to  be  satisfied  when  things  are  done  half 
as  well  as  I  would  have  them." 

Ideality  often  becomes  an  insidious  mental  and  moral 
disease,  acting  all  the  more  subtly  from  its  alliance  with  what 
is  noblest  in  us.  Shall  we  not  aspire  to  be  perfect?  Shall 
we  be  content  with  low  standards  in  anything  ?  To  these 
inquiries  there  seems  to  be  but  one  answer ;  yet  the  indi- 
vidual driven  forward  in  blind,  unreasoning  aspiration,  be- 
comes wearied,  bewildered,  discontented,  restless,  fretful, 
and  miserable.  And,  being  miserable  himself,  he  is  almost 
certain  to  make  others  unhappy.  This  is  the  secret  reason 
why  many  pure,  good,  conscientious  persons  are  only  a  source 
of  uneasiness  to  those  with  whom  they  come  in  contact. 
They  are  exacting,  discontented,  unhappy ;  and  spread 
discontent  and  unhappiness  around  them.  There  are  people 
who  make  no  allowances  either  for  themselves  or  others,  but 
are  equally  angry  and  resentful  towards  both,  and  for  this 


206  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

reason,  that  the  great  virtue  of  being  dissatisfied  with  imper- 
fection has  turned  into  a  vice,  being  misapplied. 

Blind  persistence  in  trifles,  which  is  a  deformed  shoot  from 
a  very  good  stock,  will  furnish  one  other  illustration  of  the 
misapplication  of  virtue.  Like  many  others,  this  fault  is 
the  overaction  of  a  necessary  and  praiseworthy  quality. 
Without  firmness,  all  human  plans  would  be  unstable  as 
water.  A  poor  woman  being  asked  how  it  was  that  her  son, 
after  going  on  steadily  for  a  considerable  time,  becai/ae  at 
last  changed  in  character,  replied  :  "  I  suppose  because  he 
had  not  the  gift  of  continuance."  This  perseverance  of 
will,  or  "  gift  of  continuance,"  is  found  in  greater  or  less 
degree  in  every  well-constituted  nature.  It  is  seen  in  the 
lower  animals.  The  force  by  which  a  bulldog  holds  on  to 
an  antagonist,  the  persistence  with  which  a  mule  will  set 
himself  to  resist  blows  and  menaces,  are  pertinent  examples 
of  the  animal  phase  of  a  property  which  exists  in  human 
beings,  and  forms  the  foundation  for  that  perseverance 
which  carries  on  all  the  great  and  noble  enterprises  of  life. 

But  there  is  a  wild,  uncultured  growth  of  this  faculty,  the 
instinctive  action  of  firmness  uncontrolled  by  reason  or 
conscience,  which  does  much  mischief,  and  causes  no 
inconsiderable  amount  of  misery.  Speaking  of  this  fault, 
Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe  imagines  the  case  of  two  young  people 
in  the  midst  of  that  happy  bustle  which  attends  the  forma- 
tion of  a  first  home.  Hero  and  Leander  have  written  each 
other  a  letter  every  day  for  two  years,  beginning  with  "  My 
dearest,"  and  ending  with  "  Your  own,"  &c. ;  they  have  sent 
each  other  flowers  and  rings  and  locks  of  hair;  they  have 


MISAPPLIED  VIRTUES.  207 

worn  each  other's  portraits ;  they  are  convinced  that  never 
was  there  such  sympathy  of  souls,  such  coincidence  of 
opinion,  such  a  reasonable  foundation  for  mutual  esteem. 
They  do  sincerely  respect  and  love  each  other ;  nevertheless, 
the  first  year  of  their  married  life  will  be  a  continued  battle 
about  trifles,  if  both  of  them  are  set  on  having  their  way  at 
all  times.  For  example,  this  morning  Hero  and  Leander 
are  presiding  at  the  arrangement  of  the  furniture  which  has 
just  been  sent  to  their  pretty  cottage. 

"  Put  the  piano  in  the  bow-window,"  says  the  lady. 
"  No  ;  not  in  the  bow-window,"  says  the  gentleman. 
"  Why,  my  dear,  of  course  it  must  go  in  the  bow-window. 
How  awkward  it  would  look  anywhere  else  !     I  have  always 
seen  pianos  in  bow- windows." 

"  My  love,  you  would  not  think  of  spoiling  that  beautiful 
prospect  from  the  bow-window  by  blocking  it  up  with  a 
piano.  The  proper  place  is  just  here  in  the  corner  of  the 
room." 

"  My  dear,  it  would  look  dreadful  there,  and  spoil  the 
appearance  of  the  room." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  my  love,  I  think  the  appearance  of 
the  room  would  be  spoiled  if  you  filled  up  the  bow-window. 
Think  what  a  lovely  place  that  would  be  to  sit  in  ! " 

"  Just  as  if  we  couldn't  sit  there  behind  the  piano  if  we 
wanted  to  !  I  insist  upon  it,  it  ought  to  stand  in  the  bow- 
window." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  insist  on  an  arrange- 
ment that  really  is  disagreeable  to  me." 
And  now  Hero's  cheeks  flush,  and  the  spirit  burns  within. 


208  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

But  we  need  not  quote  all  her  foolish  sayings,  or  those  of 
Leander,  as  round  and  round  they  go,  stating  and  restating 
their  arguments,  both  getting  more  and  more  nervous  and 
combative,  as  the  animal  instinct  of  self-will  grows  stronger 
and  stronger. 

"  Alas  !  how  light  a  cause  may  move 
Dissension  between  hearts  that  love," 

when  the  noble  quality  of  firmness  is  in  this  way  misapplied. 

We  might  mention  innumerable  instances  of  the  misappli- 
cation of  virtues.  There  cannot  be  a  higher  quality  than 
Conscientiousness,  yet  even  this  may  degenerate  into  cen- 
soriousness  or  hopeless  self-condemnation.  It  was  the 
constant  prayer  of  the  great  and  good  Bishop  Butler  that 
he.  might  be  saved  from  what  he  called  "scrupulosity." 
Veneration  may  become  bigotry ;  and  if  a  man  be  blindly 
reverential,  he  will  probably  sink  to  degrading  superstition. 
Where  there  is  a  deficiency  in  Combativeness,  there  is  little 
energy  and  force  of  character;  but  the  excess  of  this  quality 
makes  a  person  fault-finding  and  contentious. 

In  two  ways  good  qualities  become  warped  from  their 
original  purpose.  Our  faculties  are  "  like  sweet  bells  jangled 
out  of  tune  and  harsh  "  when  any  one  faculty  is  allowed  to 
make  its  voice  heard  above  that  of  the  rest ;  or  when,  not 
being  too  loud  itself,  a  discord  is  created,  because  the  oppo- 
site faculty  that  should  harmonize  it  has  been  silenced. 

Every  faculty  may  become  diseased.  Insanity  is  more  or 
less  partial.  Firmness  requires  to  be  kept  in  check  by  Bene- 
volence. Self-esteem  gives  dignity  and  independence  to  the 


MISAPPLIED  VIRTUES.  209 

character,  but  it  must  be  harmonized  by  Humility.  Cau- 
tiousness and  Prudence,  if  allowed  to  become  morbid,  may 
almost  unfit  a  man  for  action. 

If,  then,  we  are  endeavouring  to  cultivate  ourselves  and 
others,  we  must  see  that  no  one  faculty,  however  good  in 
itself,  is  developed  unduly,  or  without  equal  care  being 
bestowed  on  the  growth  of  a  counterbalancing  faculty. 
That  only  is  a  true  system  of  education  which  aims  at  the 
development,  not  of  some,  but  of  all  the  powers  of  man.  In 
a  well-balanced  pair  of  scales,  a  feather  on  one  side  is  found 
to  turn  the  scale  just  as  really  as  if  a  ton  had  been  put  into 
it.  In  the  same  way,  if  a  man  be  deficient  in  one  element, . 
a  fair  development  of  the  opposite  quality  will  show  an 
excess.  Some  men  are  exceedingly  good ;  but  being  de- 
ficient in  force  and  energy  of  character,  they  produce  upon 
society  very  little  influence.  They  are  like  lemonade  with 
the  lemon  left  out — altogether  too  sweet  and  insipid.  Some, 
again,  have  a  predominance  of  animal  propensity,  and  their 
tendency  of  character  is  toward  animal  indulgences.  Others 
have  moral  power,  with  too  little  intelligence  to  guide  it. 
Others  are  warped  and  unbalanced  by  a  predominance  of 
social  feeling.  If  they  had  enough  of  something  else  to 
balance  their  social  sympathies,  while  people  would  admire 
them  as  the  "best  fellows  in  the  world,"  they  would  not  be 
obliged  to  regret  in  their  behalf  a  course  of  dissipation  and 
folly.  Thus  it  is  that  even  the  most  admired  virtues  become 
vicious,  unless  they  are  directed  in  their  exercise  by  that 
"  sweet  reasonableness "  which  "  turns  to  scorn  the  false- 
hood of  extremes." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


VITAL   FORCE. 


"  Faraday  was  a  man  of  excitable  and  fiery  nature ;  but,  through 
high  self-discipline,  he  had  converted  the  fire  into  a  central  glow  and 
motive  power  of  life,  instead  of  permitting  it  to  waste  itself  in  useless 
passion." —  Tyndill. 

"  Dost  thou  love  life,  then  do  not  squander  time  (or  energy),  for  that 
is  the  stuff  life  is  made  of." — Franklin. 

jLTHOUGH  we  have  not  the  slightest  concep. 
tion  of  what  life  is  in  itself,  and  consequently 
could  not  define  it,  we  may,  for  the  sake  of 
convenience,  think  of  it  as  a  kind  of  force. 

"In  the  wonderful  story,"  says  Professor 
Huxley  in  his  "  Lay  Sermons,"  "  of  the  Peau  de  Chagrin, 
the  hero  becomes  possessed  of  a  magical  wild  ass's  skin, 
which  yields  him  the  means  of  gratifying  all  his  wishes.  But 
its  surface  represents  the  duration  of  the  proprietor's  life ; 
and  for  every  satisfied  desire,  the  skin  shrinks  in  proportion 
to  the  intensity  of  fruition,  until  at  length  life  and  the  last 


VITAL  FORCE.  21: 

handbreadth  of  the  peau  de  chagrin  disappear  with  the 
gratification  of  a  last  wish.  Protoplasm  or  the  physical 
basis  of  life  is  a  veritable  peau  de  chagrin^  and  for  every  vital 
act  it  is  somewhat  the  smaller.  All  work  implies  waste,  and 
the  work  of  life  results,  directly  or  indirectly,  in  the  waste  of 
protoplasm.  Every  word  uttered  by  a  speaker  costs  him 
some  physical  loss ;  and,  in  the  strictest  sense,  he  burns 
that  others  may  have  light — so  much  eloquence,  so  much  of 
his  body  resolved  into  carbonic  acid,  water,  and  urea.  It  is 
clear  that  this  process  of  expenditure  cannot  go  on  for  ever. 
But,  happily,  the  protoplasmic  peau  de  chagrin  differs  in  its 
capacity  of  being  repaired  and  brought  back  to  its  full  size 
after  every  exertion.  For  example,  this  present  lecture  is 
conceivably  expressible  by  the  number  of  grains  of  proto- 
plasm and  other  bodily  substance  wasted  in  maintaining  my 
vital  processes  during  its  delivery.  My  peau  de  chagrin  will 
be  distinctly  smaller  at  the  end  of  the  discourse  than  it  was 
at  the  beginning.  J3y  and  by  I  shall  have  recourse  to  the 
substance  commonly  called  mutton,  for  the  purpose  of 
stretching  it  back  to  its  original  size." 

This  explanation  may  be  very  philosophical,  but  it  is  only 
a  roundabout  way  of  saying  that,  within  reasonable  bounds, 
we  can  recover  the  effects  of  exhaustion  by  proper  food  and 
rest;  which,  as  a  fact,  people  are  pretty  well  acquainted 
with.  The  error  to  be  avoided  is,  in  any  shape  to  make 
such  a  pull  on  the  constitution  as  to  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  recovery.  Life-stuff,  or  protoplasm,  is  an  inherent 
quantity  not  to  be  heedlessly  wasted ;  and  this  truth  be- 
comes more  apparent  the  older  we  grow.  Why  is  one  man 


212  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

greater,  in  the  sense  of  being  more  powerful,  than  another  ? 
Because  he  knows  how  to  get  out  of  himself  a  greater 
amount  of  work  with  less  waste  of  life-stuff. 

We  see  from  experience  that  the  more  men  have  to  do 
the  more  they  can  do.  And  this  paradox  is  only  reasonable, 
for  it  is  the  necessity  of  great  work  that  forces  upon  us 
systematic  habits,  and  teaches  us  to  economize  the  power 
that  is  in  us.  With  the  cares  of  an  empire  on  their 
shoulders,  Prime  Ministers  can  make  time  to  write  poems, 
novels,  Homeric  or  Biblical  studies.  It  is  the  busy-idle 
man  who  never  loses  an  opportunity  of  assuring  you  that 
"  he  has  not  a  moment  in  the  day  to  himself,  and  that  really 
he  has  no  time  to  look  round  him."  Of  course  idle  people 
have  no  time  to  spare,  because  they  have  never  learned  how 
to  save  the  odd  minutes  of  the  day,  and  because  their  vital 
energy  is  expended  in  fuss  rather  than  in  work. 

"He  hath  no  leisure,"  says  George  Herbert,  "who  useth 
it  not;"  that  is  to  say,  he  who  does  not* save  time  for  his 
work  when  he  can,  is  always  in  a  hurry.  One  of  the  most 
sublime  conceptions  of  the  Deity  we  can  form  is  that  He  is 
never  idle,  and  never  in  a  hurry. 

The  following  words  from  a  newspaper  description  of  the 
sublime  calmness  of  power  manifested  by  the  huge  hydraulic 
crane  used  to  lift  a  hundred  ton  gun,  we  take  as  our  type 
of  the  powerful  man  who  knows  how  to  economize  his  vital 
force  instead  of  wasting  it  by  fussing :  "  Is  there  not  some- 
thing sublime  in  a  hydraulic  crane  which  lifts  a  Titanic 
engine  of  destruction  weighing  a  hundred  tons  to  a  con- 
siderable height  with  as  noiseless  a  calm  and  as  much 


VITAL  FORCE.  213 


absence  of  apparent  stress  or  strain  as  if  it  had  been  a  boy- 
soldier's  pop-gun  ?  When  we  further  read  of  the  hydraulic 
monster  holding  up  its  terrible  burden  motionless  in  mid- 
air until  it  is  photographed,  and  then  lowering  it  gently  and 
quietly  on  a  sort  of  extemporized  cradle  without  the  least 
appearance  of  difficulty,  one  can  readily  understand  that  the 
mental  impression  produced  on  the  bystanders  must  have 
been  so  solemn  as  to  manifest  itself  in  most  eloquent 
silence."  With  the  same  freedom  from  excitement  and 
difficulty  does  the  strong  man,  who  saves  his  force  for 
worthy  objects,  raise  up  morally  and  physically  depressed 
nations,  take  cities,  or,  what  is  harder  to  do  still,  rule  his 
own  spirit.  It  is  the  fashion  nowadays  to  say  that  people 
are  killed  or  turned  into  lunatics  by  overwork,  and  no 
doubt  there  is  much  truth  in  the  complaint.  Neverthe- 
less it  would  seem  that  vital  force  is  wasted  almost  as 
much  by  the  idle  man  as  by  him  who  overworks  himself 
for  the  purpose  of  "  getting  on."  It  is  indolence  which 
exhausts,  by  allowing  the  entrance  of  fretful  thoughts 
into  the  mind ;  not  action,  in  which  there  is  health  and 
pleasure.  We  never  knew  a  man  without  a  profession  who 
did  not  seem  always  to  be  busy.  It  may  be  he  was  occu- 
pied in  worrying  about  the  dinner  or  the  place  where  he 
should  spend  his  holiday — which  he  did  not  work  for — in 
correcting  his  wife,  in  inventing  pleasures,  and  abusing  them 
when  found,  in  turning  the  house  upside  down  by  doing 
little  jobs  foolishly  supposed  to  be  useful.  And  women, 
too,  when  stretched  on  the  rack  of  a  too  easy  chair,  are 
they  not  forced  to  confess  that  there  is  as  much  vital  force 


214  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

required  to  enable  them  to  endure  the  "pains  and  penalties 
of  idleness "  as  would,  if  rightly  directed,  render  them 
useful,  and  therefore  happy?  The  fact  is,  there  are  far 
more  who  die  of  selfishness  and  idleness  than  of  overwork, 
for  where  men  break  down  by  overwork  it  is  generally 
from  not  taking  care  to  order  their  lives  and  obey  the 
physical  laws  of  health. 

Let  us  consider  a  few  of  the  many  ways  in  which  we 
waste  the  stuff  that  life  is  made  of.  It  has  been  well  said 
that  "the  habit  of  looking  on  the  bright  side  of  things  is 
worth  far  more  than  a  thousand  pounds  a  year ; "  and  cer- 
tainly it  is  a  habit  that  must  add  many  years  to  the  lives  of 
those  who  acquire  it.  Really  every  fit  of  despondency  and 
every  rage  take  so  much  out  of  us,  that  any  one  who  in- 
dulges in  either  without  a  great  struggle  to  prevent  himself 
doing  so  should  be  characterized  as  little  less  than  a  fool. 
How  silly  it  seems  even  to  ourselves  after  cooling,  to  have 
acquired  a  nervous  headache,  and  to  have  become  generally 
done  up,  stamping  round  the  room,  and  showing  other  signs 
of  foolish  anger,  because  dinner  was  five  minutes  late,  or 
because  some  one's  respect  for  us  did  not  quite  rise  to  the 
high  standard  measured  by  our  egotism  !  As  if  it  were  not 
far  more  important  that  we  should  save  our  vital  energy, 
and  not  get  into  a  rage,  than  that  dinner  should  be  served 
exactly  to  the  moment. 

One  day  a  friend  of  Lord  Palmerston  asked  him  when 
he  considered  a  man  to  be  in  the  prime  of  life ;  his  im- 
mediate reply  was  "  Seventy-nine.  But,"  he  added,  with  a 
playful  smile,  "as  I  have  just  entered  my  eightieth  year, 


VITAL  FORCE.  215 


perhaps  I  am  myself  a  little  past  it !  "  How  is  it  that  such 
men  work  on  vigorously  to  the  end  ?  Because  they  treasure 
their  ever-diminishing  vital  force.  They  carefully  refrain 
from  making  a  pull  on  the  constitution.  Reaching  the 
borders  of  seventy  years  of  age,  they  as  good  as  say  to 
themselves  :  "  We  must  now  take  care  what  we  are  about." 
They  make  sacrifices,  avoid  a  number  of  treacherous  gaieties, 
and,  living  simply,  they  perhaps  give  some  cause  of  offence, 
for  the  world  does  not  approve  of  singularity.  But  let  those 
laugh  who  win.  They  hold  the  censorious  observations  of 
critics  in  derision,  and  maintain  the  even  tenor  of  their 
way.  In  other  words,  they  conserve  their  vital  force,  and 
try  to  keep  above  ground  as  long  as  possible.  Blustering 
natures,  forgetful  of  the  great  truth  that  "  power  itself  hath 
not  one-half  the  might  of  gentleness,"  miss  the  ends  for 
which  they  strive  just  because  the  force  that  is  in  them  is 
not  properly  economized. 

Then  as  regards  temper:  any  man  who  allows  that  to 
master  him  wastes  as  much  energy  as  would  enable  him 
to  remove  the  cause  of  anger  or  overcome  an  opponent. 
The  little  boy  of  eight  years  old,  who  in  the  country  is  often 
seen  driving  a  team  of  four  immense  dray-horses,  is  one  of 
the  innumerable  instances  of  the  power  of  reason  over  mere 
brute-force,  which  should  induce  violent  tempers  to  become 
calm  from  policy,  if  from  no  higher  motive. 

Many  people  squander  their  life's  energy  by  not  living 
enough  in  the  present.  They  enjoy  themselves  badly  and 
work  badly,  because  they  are  either  regretting  mistakes 
committed  in  the  past,  or  anticipating  future  sorrows.  Now, 


216  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

certainly  no  waste  of  force  is  so  foolish  as  this,  because  if 
our  mistakes  are  curable,  the  same  energy  would  counteract 
their  bad  effects  as  we  expend  in  regretting ;  and  if  they  are 
incurable,  why  think  any  more  about  them  ?  None  but  a 
child  cries  over  spilt  milk.  The  mischief  k  done,  and  let 
it  be  forgotten,  only  taking  care  for  the  future.  Sometimes 
people  keep  fretting  about  troubles  that  may  never  take 
place,  and  spend  life's  energy  on  absolutely  nothing.  Real 
worry  from  Torturations  of  various  sorts  is  quite  enough, 
and  causes  a  greater  draught  on  our  vital  force  than  hard 
work.  Let  us  not,  therefore,  aggravate  matters  by  anticipa- 
ting troubles  that  are  little  better  than  visionary. 

In  looking  ahead,  it  is  of  immense  importance  not  to 
enter  into  any  transaction  in  which  there  are  wild  risks  of 
cruel  disaster.  There  we  touch  on  the  grand  worry  of  the 
age.  A  violent  haste  to  get  rich  !  Who  shall  say  how 
much  the  unnaturally  rapid  heart-beats  with  which  rash 
speculators  in  shares  in  highly  varnished  but  extremely 
doubtful  undertakings  receive  telegraphic  messages  of  bad 
or  good  fortune,  must  use  up  their  life's  force?  Hearts 
beating  themselves  to  death !  Rushing  to  trains,  jumping 
upstairs,  eating  too  fast,  going  to  work  before  digestion  has 
been  completed — these  are  habits  acquired  naturally  in  days 
when  it  is  the  fashion  to  live  at  high-pressure;  but  such 
habits  are  surely  not  unavoidable,  and  would  be  avoided  if 
we  thoroughly  valued  our  vital  force. 

There  are  persons  of  a  nervous  temperament  who  seem 
to  be  always  upon  wires.  Nature  has  given  them  energy ; 
but  their  physique  is  in  many  cases  inadequate  to  supply 


VITAL  FORCE.  217 


the  demands  made  upon  it.  The  steam  is  there,  but  the 
boiler  is  too  weak.  Duke  d'Alva,  according  to  Fuller,  must 
have  been  of  this  nature.  "  He  was  one  of  a  lean  body 
and  visage,  as  if  his  eager  soul,  biting  for  anger  at  the  clog 
of  his  body,  desired  to  fret  a  passage  through  it."  The 
same  thought  was  wittily  expressed  by  Sydney  Smith  when 
he  exclaimed :  "  Why,  look  there,  at  Jeffrey ;  and  there  is 

my  little  friend  ,  who  has  not  body  enough  to  cover 

his  mind  decently  with ;  his  intellect  is  improperly  exposed." 
Now  these  are  just  the  sort  of  people  who  should  not  kill 
themselves,  for,  though  wrapped  in  small  parcels,  they  are 
good  goods.  They  owe  it  as  a  duty  to  themselves  and 
others  not  to  allow  their  fiery  souls  "  to  fret  their  pygmy 
bodies  to  decay" — not  to  throw  too  much  zeal  into  trifles, 
in  order  that  they  may  have  a  supply  of  life-force  for  things 
important.  He  who  desires  to  wear  well  must  take  for  his 
motto  "  Nothing  in  excess."  Such  a  one  avoids  dinners  of 
many  courses,  goes  to  bed  before  twelve  o'clock,  and  does 
not  devote  his  energy  to  the  endurance  of  overheated 
assemblies.  When  young  men  around  him  have  got 
athletics  on  the  brain,  he  keeps  his  head  and  health  by 
exercising  only  moderately.  He  is  not  ambitious  of  being 
in  another's  place,  but  tries  quietly  to  adorn  his  own.  "Give 
me  innocence ;  make  others  great ! "  When  others  are 
killing  themselves  to  get  money,  and  to  get  it  quickly,  that 
with  it  they  may  make  a  show,  he  prays  the  prayer  of  Agur, 
"  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches,"  for  he  thinks  more  of 
the  substance  than  of  the  shadow.  This  is  the  truly  wise 
and  successful  man,  and  to  him  shall  be  given,  by  the 


218  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

Divine  laws  of  nature,  riches  (that  is,  contentment),  and 
honour  (that  is,  self-respect),  and  a  long  life,  because  he  did 
not  waste  the  steam  by  which  the  machine  was  worked.  In 
homely  proverb,  he  "kept  his  breath  to  cool  his  porridge," 
and  most  probably  was  a  disciple  of  Izaak  Walton. 

At  this  point,  perhaps  the  secret  thoughts  of  some  who 
have  not  yet  learned  how  "  it  is  altogether  a  serious  matter 
to  be  alive,"  may  take  this  shape.  "  What,  after  all,"  they 
may  ask,  "  is  the  good  of  economizing  life's  force  ?  Often  I 
hardly  know  what  to  do  with  myself,  nor  have  I  much  pur- 
pose in  life  beyond  eating,  drinking,  and  sleeping."  To 
such  thoughts  we  should  give  somewhat  of  the  following 
answer :  There  is  a  work  for  every  single  person  in  the 
world,  and  his  happiness  as  well  as  his  duty  lies  in  doing 
that  work  well.  This  is  a  consideration  which  should  com- 
municate a  zest  to  our  feelings  about  life.  We  should 
rejoice,  as  experience  teaches  us  that  each  of  us  has  the 
means  of  being  useful,  and  thus  of  being  happy.  None  is 
left  out,  however  humble  may  be  our  position  and  limited 
our  faculties,  for  we  all  can  do  our  best ;  and  though  success 
may  not  be  ours,  it  is  enough  if  we  have  deserved  it.  Cer- 
tainly if  there  be  any  purpose  in  the  universe,  a  day  will 
come  when  we  shall  all  have  to  answer  such  questions  as 
these  :  "  You  were  given  a  certain  amount  of  life-force ;  what 
have  you  done  with  it  ?  Where  are  your  works?  Did  you 
try  to  make  the  little  corner  in  which  you  were  placed 
happier  and  better  than  it  was  before  you  came  into  it  ?  " 
One  day  we  shall  all  think  nothing  so  valuable  as  the 
smallest  amount  of  that  force  without  which  we  cannot  live. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SUCCESS    IN   LIFE. 

'*  If  I  were  a  cobbler,  it  would  be  my  pride 

The  best  of  all  cobblen  to  be  ; 
If  I  were  a  tinker,  no  tinker  beside 

Should  mend  an  old  kettle  like  me." — Old  Song. 

"  He,  and  he  only,  possesses  the  earth,  as  he  goes  towards  that 
kingdom  of  heaven,  by  being  humble  and  cheerful,  and  content  with 
what  his  good  God  has  allotted  him.  He  has  no  turbulent,  repining, 
vexatious  thoughts  that  he  deserves  better  ;  nor  is  vexed  when  he  sees 
others  possessed  of  more  honour  or  more  riches  than  his  wise  God  has 
allotted  for  his  share ;  but  he  possesses  what  he  has  with  a  meek  and 
contented  quietness,  such  a  quietness  as  makes  his  very  dreams  pleasing, 
both  to  God  and  himself.  "—Izaak  Walton. 

UT  what  a  rare  thing  is  success  in  life  !  "  said 
Endymion.  "I  often  wonder  whether  I 
shall  ever  be  able  to  step  out  of  the  crowd." 
"You  may  have  success  in  life  without 
stepping  out  of  the  crowd,"  said  the  baron. 
This  answer  of  the  baron,  quoted  from  Lord  Beacons- 


220  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN:9 

field's  story,  seems  to  us  to  sum  up  the  true  philosophy  of 
life.  "  You  may  have  success  in  life  without  stepping  out  of 
the  crowd."  It  is  well  to  be  assured  of  this,  for  to  succeed 
in  life  is  the  natural  ambition,  if  not  of  every  young  Endy- 
mion,  at  least  of  his  parents  for  him.  If  to  succeed  in  life 
it  were  necessary  to  become  very  famous,  very  powerful,  or 
very  rich,  success  would  be  the  monopoly  of  but  a  very  few 
people.  It  has  been  calculated  that  not  more  than  one  in 
four  thousand  may  be  expected  to  attain  distinction,  and 
that  not  one  in  a  million  possesses  that  wonderful  thing 
called  genius. 

But  there  is  a  real  sort  of  success  that  cannot  be  monopo- 
lized. Our  being's  end  and  aim  is  to  be  good  and  to  do 
good.  Here  every  one  may  succeed,  for  character  is  a  kind  of 
wealth  that  knows  no  failure.  "They  truly  are  faithful," says 
the  author  of  the  "  Imitatio  Christi,"  "who  devote  their  entire 
lives  to  amendment."  Every  man  may  make  his  life  success- 
ful in  this  sense.  And  as  one  is  never  so  successful  as  when 
he  thinks  least  of  success,  such  an  one  will  probably  gain  in 
the  long  run  more  happiness,  and  exercise  a' greater  influence 
in  the  world  than  his  more  grasping  neighbour.  We  miss 
the  force  of  the  words  of  St.  James,  "  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons,"  when  we  forget  that  the  original  meaning  of  the 
word  person  (persona)  was  the.  mask  worn  by  an  actor.  In 
the  great  tragi-comedy  of  life  each  sustains  a  "  person." 
What  the  role  is  in  the  play  which  each  sustains,  this  God 
does  not  regard,  but  only  how  he  sustains  it.  And  we  may 
be  sure  that  he  who  cannot  play  well  a  subordinate  part  in 
the  drama  of  life,  will  do  no  better  if  given  a  higher  role. 


SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.  221 

The  great  natural  philosopher,  Faraday,  who  was  the  son  of 
a  blacksmith,  wrote,  Vhen  a  young  man,  to  Sir  H.  Davy,  ask- 
ing for  employment  at  the  Royal  Institution.  Sir  H.  Davy 
consulted  a  friend  on  the  matter.  "  Here  is  a  letter  from  a 
young  man  named  Faraday;  he  has  been  attending  my 
lectures,  and  wants  me  to  give  him  employment  at  the  Royal 
Institution — what  can  I  do  ? "  "  Do  ?  put  him  to  wash 
bottles  ;  if  he  is  good  for  anything  he  will  do  it  directly ;  if 
he  refuses  he  is  good  for  nothing."  Faraday  washing  bottles 
would  be  quite  as  successful  a  man  as  Professor  Faraday 
lecturing  at  the  Royal  Institution  if  both  kinds  of  work  were 
equally  well  done. 

But  there  is  hardly  any  one  who  sets  self-development 
before  him  as  an  aim  in  life.  'An  idol  called  "  success  "  is 
put  up  for  worship,  and  people  are  ready  to  sacrifice  health 
and  happiness  upon  its  altar. 

In  his  book  on  "  Responsibility  in  Mental  Disease,"  Dr. 
Maudsley  well  says  :  "  The  aims  which  chiefly  predominate — 
riches,  position,  power,  applause  of  men — are  such  as  inevit- 
ably breed  and  foster  many  bad  passions  in  the  eager  com- 
petition to  attain  them.  Hence,  in  fact,  come  disappointed 
ambition,  jealousy,  grief  from  loss  of  fortune,  all  the  torments 
of  wounded  self-love,  and  a  thousand  other  mental  sufferings 
— the  commonly  enumerated  moral  causes  of  insanity.  They 
are  griefs  of  a  kind  to  which  a  rightly  developed  nature 
should  not  fall  a  prey.  There  need  be  no  disappointed 
ambition  if  a  man  were  to  set  before  himself  a  true  aim  in 
life,  and  to  work  definitely  for  it ;  no  envy  nor  jealousy,  if 
he  considered  that  it  mattered  not  whether  he  did  a  great 


222  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

thing  or  some  one  else  did  it,  Nature's  only  concern  being 
that  it  should  be  done ;  no  grief  from  loss  of  fortune,  if  he 
estimated  at  its  true  value  that  which  fortune  can  bring  him, 
and  that  which  fortune  can  never  bring  him ;  no  wounded 
self-love,  if  he  had  learned  well  the  eternal  lesson  of  life — 
self-renunciation." 

This  may  be  called  "  unpractical " ;  but  we  cannot  help 
thinking  that  if  parents  would  sometimes  reflect  on  such 
ideals,  they  would  have  less  of  false  and  more  of  true  am- 
bition than  they  now  have.  They  would  wish  their  children 
to  turn  out  useful  rather  than  brilliant,  good  rather  than 
clever.  As  it  is,  a  dull  child  is  too  often  snubbed  and  ren- 
dered miserable  because  he  does  not  give  promise  of  shining 
in  the  world ;  while  his  precocious  brother,  who  will  prob- 
ably do  far  less  (precocious  brains  being  often  the  worst),  is 
lionized  to  strangers,  and  regarded  as  a  sort  of  Liebig's 
Essence  for  the  support  of  the  family.  Perhaps  it  is  owing 
to  this  association  of  early  ideas  that  at  school  the  clever 
boy  who  spends  the  shortest  time  possible  at  his  books  is 
considered  by  his  companions  a  far  greater  man  than  his  less 
clever  class-fellow  who  wins  in  the  long  run  by  working 
more  conscientiously. 

How  much  uselessness  as  well  as  unhappiness  might 
children  be  spared  if  their  parents  would  goad  them  less  and 
sometimes  cheer  up  that  dulness  which  has  fallen  to  the  lot 
of  most  of  us,  by  saying  : 

"  Be  good,  dear  child,  and  let  who  will  be  clever  ; 

Do  noble  things — nor  dream  them  all  day  long  £ 
And  so  make  life,  death,  and  that  vast  forever, 
One  grand  sweet  song." 


SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.  223 

To  make  money,  to  be  talked  about,  to  get  one's  name  into 
the  papers,  to  be  seen  in  the  society  of  titled  people — this 
is  the  only  success  in  life  that  many  people  can  imagine.  To 
such  persons  we  might  say,  "  Succeeding  ?  what  is  the  great 
use  of  succeeding  ?  Failing  ?  where  is  the  great  harm  ?  " 
For,  as  Macaulay  moralizes  in  his  "Sermon  in  a  Church- 
yard": 

"  The  plots  and  feats  of  those  that  press 

To  seize  on  titles,  wealth,  and  power, 
Shall  seem  to  thee  a  game  of  chess, 
Devised  to  pass  a  tedious  hour. 

What  matters  it  to  him  who  fights 

For  shows  of  unsubstantial  good, 
Whether  his  kings  and  queens  and  knights 

Be  things  of  flesh,  or  things  of  wood  ? 

We  check  and  take,  exult  and  fret ; 

Our  plans  extend,  our  passions  rise, 
Till  in  our  ardour  we  forget 

How  worthless  is  the  victor's  prize. 

Soon  fades  the  spell,  soon  comes  the  night. 

Say,  will  it  not  be  then  the  same 
Whether  we  play  the  black  or  white, 

Whether  we  lose  or  win  the  game  ?  " 

We  are  not  so  foolish  as  to  affect  to  despise  fame,  money, 
rank,  power.  Desire  of  fame,  if  it  be  an  infirmity,  is  the  in- 
firmity of  noble  minds,  and  the  spur  to  great  achievement. 
But  we  must  distinguish  between  fame  and  notoriety.  To  be 
talked  about  is  very  different  from  being  famous.  Indeed, 
it  not  seldom  happens  that  the  more  a  man  is  talked  about 
the  less  is  his  real  influence.  Let  us  not  torment  our  lives 
and  mar  ultimate  usefulness  by  striving  after  cheap  publicity. 


224  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

It  is  certainly  the  part  of  wise  men  to  endeavour  *  to 
catch  Dame  Fortune's  golden  smile  " — 

"  Not  for  to  hide  it  in  a  hedge, 
Nor  for  a  train-attendant ; 
But  for  the  glorious  privilege 
Of  being  independent." 

And  also  because  money  is  a  great  force  which  may  be  put 
to  very  noble  uses.  We  all  know,  however,  that  money 
cannot  buy  happiness.  There  are  the  miserable  rich  as  well 
as  the  "  miserable  poor."  Great  wealth  is  sometimes  a  heavy 
burden,  and  the  life  of  a  very  rich  person  may  be  and  often 
is  a  great  failure. 

Nor  should  we  envy  those  in  power  unless  we  are  sure 
that  we  would  make  a  good  use  of  their  position.  That  the 
possession  of  such  things  as  wealth  and  rank  do  not  neces- 
sarily constitute  success,  is  proved  by  the  despairing  words 
of  many,  who  with  every  outward  advantage  have  failed 
utterly  in  life.  Apparently  successful  people  are  sometimes 
great  failures.  As  life  goes  on  most  people  begin  to  feel  that 
the  word  "  happy  "  has  no  light  meaning,  and  requires  more 
than  mere  worldly  prosperity  or  enjoyment  to  answer  to  its 
signification.  Sick  of  herself  through  very  selfishness,  the 
wife  of  the  Grand  Monarque,  Louis  XIV.,  thus  spoke  in  her 
hour  of  death  :  "  Do  you  not  see  that  I  am  dying  of  weari- 
ness amidst  a  fortune  that  can  scarcely  be  imagined  ?  I 
have  been  young  and  pretty ;  I  have  tasted  pleasure.  I  have 
been  everywhere  loved,  In  an  age  more  advanced  I  have 
passed  some  years  in  the  commerce  of  the  mind,  and  I  pro- 
test to  you  that  all  conditions  leave  a  frightful  void.  I  can 


SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.  225 

endure  no  more,  I  wish  only  to  die."  Here  surely  is  an 
illustration  of  the  words,  "  Whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall 
lose  it." 

Sometimes  the  very  greatness  of  a  man's  ambition  renders 
him  contented.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Arnold.  Speak- 
ing of  his  own  early  struggles  to  a  Rugby  pupil,  who  was 
consulting  him  on  the  choice  of  a  profession,  he  said,  "  I  be- 
lieve that,  naturally,  I  am  one  of  the  most  ambitious  men 
alive,"  and  "  the  three  great  objects  of  human  ambition,"  he 
added,  to  which  alone  he  could  look  as  deserving  the  name, 
were,  "  to  be  the  prime  minister  of  a  great  kingdom,  the 
governor  of  a  great  empire,  or  the  writer  of  works  which 
should  live  in  every  age  and  in  every  country."  "  But  in 
some  respects,"  says  his  biographer,  "  the  loftiness  of  his  aim 
made  it  a  matter  of  less  difficulty  to  confine  himself  to  a 
sphere  in  which,  whilst  he  felt  himself  well  and  usefully 
employed,  he  felt  also  that  the  practical  business  of  his 
daily  duties  acted  as  a  check  upon  his  own  inclinations  and 
speculations."  "I  have  always  thought,"  wrote  Dr.  Arnold, 
"  with  regard  to  ambition,  that  I  should  like  to  be  ant  Ccesar 
aut  nullus,  and  as  it  is  pretty  well  settled  for  me  that  I  shall 
not  be  Ctzsar,  I  am  quite  content  to  live  in  peace  as  nullus. ' 

We  must,  however,  guard  against  becoming  a  prey  to 
apathetic  indolence  while  endeavouring  to  escape  the  fret- 
ful stir  and  unprofitable  fever  of  "getting  on."  "Whatso- 
ever thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  all  thy  might,"  is 
the  motto  of  noble  ambition,  not  less,  but  far  more  than 
of  vulgar  self-seeking.  It  requires  much  more  persever- 
ance and  energy  to  perfect  character  than  to  become  a 


226  " MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

"  great  success  "  in  the  estimation  of  the  world.  The  suc- 
cess which  may  be  obtained  without  stepping  out  of  the 
crowd — the  success  open  to  all — is  only  gained  in  actual 
fact  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing.  It  is  not  ease 
but  effort,  not  smoothness  but  difficulty,  that  makes  manly 
men  and  Christian  character. 

Our  age  worships  success,  and,  as  a  consequence,  we  are 
often  brutally  unfair  in  our  estimate  of  "failures."  A 
chapter  of  accidents  raises  one  general  or  statesman  to  the 
highest  heaven  of  popular  favour.  Another  is  called  hard 
names  because  time  and  chance  were  against  him,  and  he 
could  not  accomplish  impossibilities.  "The  world  which 
credits  what  is  done  is  cold  to  all  that  might  have  been." 
.  But  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the 
strong.  While  there  are  victories  as  disastrous  as  defeats, 
there  are  such  things  as  victorious  failures.  A  man  may  do 
his  best  and  fail  to  gain  the  prize  or  position  at  which  he 
aims.  And  yet  his  apparent  failure  may  be  a  real  success 
if  he  have  worked  in  the  spirit  of  the  noble  lines — • 

"  "Tis  not  in  mortals  to  command  success, 
But  we'll  do  more,  Sempronius  j  we'll  deserve  it." 

Some  time  ago  a  man  sent  a  circular  to  many  of  the  so- 
called  leading  men  in  different  positions  of  life,  politely 
requesting  them  to  be  good  enough  to  explain  why  they 
were  failures.  Imagine  the  feelings  of  a  certain  duke, 
cabinet  minister,  bishop,  general,  barrister,  medical  man  of 
high  reputation  and  others,  on  receiving  this  invitation.  It 
was  scarcely  like  an  additional  lump  of  sugar  in  their 


SUCCESS  IN  L1PE.  227 

breakfast  cup  of  tea  to  be  asked  to  think — actually  to 
think — if  they  were  really  as  great  successes  after  all  as  a 
foolish  world  gave  them  credit  for  being.  It  was  once  said 
of  the  highest  ecclesiastic  in  Christendom,  that  for  the 
sake  of  gaining  to-day,  he  had  thrown  away  to-morrow  for 
ever.  A  monk  prayed  to  know  where  he  would  sit  in 
Paradise,  and  he  had  a  dream  in  which  he  found  himself 
placed  at  the  feet  of  an  old  washerwoman. 

In  the  great  by  and  by  there  will  be  a  change  all  round, 
and  many  that  are  first  shall  be  last,  while  the  last  shall  be 
first.  Every  one  is  at  least  morally  more  successful  or  less 
successful  than  he  appears  to  his  neighbours, 

"  To  One  is  the  secret  shown 
Of  the  hidden— the  double  life  ; 
To  One  is  its  conflict  known, 
Of  the  better  and  baser  at  strife. 
If  I  am  not  what  others  may  deem, 
Yet  judge  me  not  counterfeit,  sham  ; 
I  am  far  less  good  than  I  seem, 
Yet  I  seem  not  so  good  as  I  am  ! " 

We  see,  then,  that  it  is  quite  possible  to  be  successful 
without  forcing  one's  self  into  a  higher  grade  of  society,  as 
it  is  foolishly  called.  Let  every  man  strive  to  succeed  in 
his  own  line.  The  carpenter  who  makes  good  chairs  and 
tables  better  deserves  a  crown  than  a  king  who  cannot 
govern.  We  must  all  admire  and  consider  successful  the 
crossing-sweeper  whose  honest  pride  it  was  that  he  could  do 
"  an  ornamental  piece  of  sweeping  round  a  lamp-post."  To 
cease  from  sin,  to  become  virtuous,  to  cleanse  one's  heart 
by  the  grace  of  God — this  is  to  be  successful  in  life. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


UIN   ALL   TIME   OF   OUR   WEALTH." 

"  The  meanest  floweret  of  the  vale, 
The  simplest  note  that  swells  the  gale, 
The  common  sun,  the  air,  the  skies, 
To  him  are  opening  paradise. 
From  toil  he  wins  his  spirits  light, 
From  busy  day  the  peaceful  night ; 
Rich,  from  the  very  want  of  wealth, 
In  heaven's  best  treasures,  peace  and  health." — Gfay. 

t(  Let  not  the  blessings  we  receive  daily  from  God  make  us  not  to  value, 
or  not  praise  Him,  because  they  be  common  ;  let  not  us  forget  to  praise 
Him  for  the  innocent  mirth  and  pleasure  we  have  met  with  since  we 
met  together.  What  would  a  blind  man  give  to  see  the  pleasant  rivers 
and  meadows,  and  flowers  and  fountains,  that  we  have  met  with  since 
we  met  together  ?  "—Izaak  Walton. 

jN  all  time  of  our  wealth."  Most  people  know 
the  meaning  of  this  phrase  in  the  Litany. 
Of  course  it  does  not  mean  in  all  time  when 
we  have  plenty  of  change  in  our  pockets, 
and  a  respectable  account  at  our  bankers ; 
but  in  all  time  of  our  well-being,  when  we  have  health  and 


"IN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH?  229 

youth,  and  the  capacity  of  loving^nd  kind  friends  to  love  us 
— in  a  word,  when  we  have  nature's  riches.  It  is  curious  how 
we  despise  our  best  gifts  merely  because  they  are  common, 
and  refuse  to  consider  ourselves  prosperous  and  well  off 
unless  we  possess  many  coins  and  titles — things  outside  our- 
selves. In  his  old  age,  Montaigne  used  to  say,  "  I  am  ready 
to  jump  out  of  my  skin  with  joy,  as  for  an  uncommon  favour, 
when  nothing  ails  me."  Considering  how  common  disease  is, 
and  the  terrible  forms  of  it  that  afflict  many  better  people 
than  ourselves,  ought  we  not  all  to  be  ready  to  jump  out  of 
our  skins  with  joy,  as  for  an  uncommon  favour,  when  nothing 
ails  us  ?  Health  is  the  best  kind  of  wealth ;  but  few  of  us 
appreciate  its  value  until  we  lose  it.  What  is  health  but  the 
perfection  of  life,  and  the  one  great  boon  which  gives  the 
means  of  enjoying  all  the  others?  It  is  the  portal  through 
which  life  can  enter  upon  its  natural  enjoyments.  Without 
health  the  salt  of  life  loses  its  savour ;  whereas,  when  health 
is  in  its  prime,  the  troubles  and  reverses  of  life  weigh  not 
more  heavily  than  the  raindrops  which  glide  off  the  duck's 
back.  Indeed,  at  times — rare  times  it  may  be,  in  this  high- 
pressure  age— a  state  of  health  may  be  distinctly  felt  as  a 
happiness  of  itself,  being  the  perfection  of  that  rhythmic  and 
harmonious  movement  of  varied  powers  and  sensations 
which  constitutes  existence. 

'  Even  greater  riches  than  health  can  give  come  from 
loving  and  being  loved.  Love  is  the  only  thing  that  will 
pay  ten  per  cent,  interest  on  the  outlay.  Joy  is  wealth,  and 
loving  and  being  loved  produce  the  highest  and  most  lasting 
joy.  Love  is  the  legal  tender  of  the  soul,  and  we  need  not 


230  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

be  rich  to  be  happy.  If  a  man  were  emperor  of  the  whole 
world,  and  never  had  loved,  and  never  was  loved,  he  would 
have  to  confess  that  to  him  the  time  of  wealth  never  came. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  be  rich  in  order  to  be  happy.  It  is 
only  necessary  to  love.  The  real  wealth  of  a  man  is  the 
number  of  things  which  he  loves  and  blesses,  and  by  which 
he  is  loved  and  blessed.  Unhappily,  many  people  only  love 
their  friends  when  they  have  gone  from  them,  for  regret  is 
an  instructive  thing,  and  tears  enlighten  our  understanding. ) 
"  She's  good,  being  gone  ! "  exclaims  Shakespeare's  Antony, 
when  the  death  of  his  wife  is  told  him.  He  had  not  been 
a  good  husband  to  Fulvia,  nor  had  Fulvia  been  a  gentle 
and  winsome  wife  to  him  who  was  the  slave  of  Cleopatra. 
But  of  even  Fulvia's  death  Antony  could  not  hear  without 
emotion,  without  a  pang  of  remorse.  He  had  ill-treated 
her,  and  he  knew  it ;  he  perhaps  had  hastened  her  death, 
and  he  felt  it. 

"  She's  good,  being  gone  ; 
These  hands  would  pluck  her  back  that  shoved  her  on." 

How  we  prize  what  we  despised  when  present  1 

"  It  so  falls  out, 

That  what  we  have  we  prize  not  to  the  worth 
Whiles  we  enjoy  it  j  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 
Why,  then  we  rack  the  value  ;  then  we  find 
The  virtue,  that  possession  would  not  show  us 
Whiles  it  was  ours." 

The  ghosts  of  our  dead  associations  rise  and  haunt  us, 
in  revenge  for  our  having  let  them  starve,  and  abandoned 
them  to  perish.  In  his  "  Reminiscences,"  Carlyle  thus 


UIN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH"  231 

speaks  of  his  dead  wife  :  "  Alas,  her  love  was  never  com- 
pletely known  to  me,  and  how  celestial  it  was,  till  I  lost 
her  !  Oh,  for  five  minutes  more  of  her  !  I  have  often  said, 
since  April  last,  to  tell  her  with  what  perfect  love  and  admi- 
ration, as  of  the  beautifulest  of  known  human  souls,  I  did 
intrinsically  always  regard  her!  But  all  minutes  of  the 
time  are  inexorably  past ;  be  wise,  all  ye  living,  and  remem- 
ber that  time  passes  and  does  not  return.5'  Elsewhere  again 
• — "  Blind  and  deaf  that  we  are  :  oh,  think,  if  thou  yet  love 
anybody  living,  wait  not  till  death  sweep  down  the  paltry 
little  dust-clouds  and  idle  dissonances  of  the  moment,  and 
all  be  at  last  so  mournfully  clear  and  beautiful,  when  it  is 
too  late."  In  this  respect,  as  in  so  many  others,  we  despise 

the  time  of  our  best  wealth.  • 

/ 

"  "Pis  sad  to  see,  with  death  between, 
The  good  we  have  passed,  and  have  not  seen." 

Nor  is  it  only  the  love  of  persons  that  makes  us  really 
wealthy.  The  naturalist,  who  loves  things  small  as  well  as 
great,  and  studies  the  creatures  of  the  woods  and  fields, 
gains  a  treasure  which  is  imperishable.  It  is  laid  away 
where  moth  and  rust  do  not  corrupt,  and  thieves  do  not 
break  through  and  steal. 

"  The  heart  is  hard  in  nature,  and  unfit 
For  human  fellowship,  as  being  void 
Of  sympathy,  and  therefore  dead  alike 
To  love  and  friendship,  that  is  not  pleased 
With  sight  of  animals  enjoying  life, 
Nor  feels  their  happiness  augment  his  own. 


232  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

Happy  who  walks  with  him  !  whom  what  he  finds 

Of  flavour  or  of  scent  in  fruit  or  flower, 

Or  what  he  views  of  beautiful  or  grand 

In  nature,  from  the  broad  majestic  oak 

To  the  green  blade  that  t-.vinkles  in  the  sun, 

Prompts  with  remembrance  of  a  present  God." 

"  To  see  is  to  have,"  says  a  French  proverb.  The  owner 
of  an  estate  may  not  be  its  real  possessor ;  for  he  may  be 
unable  to  enjoy  it.  A  millionaire  pays  thousands  of  pounds 
for  a  gallery  of  paintings,  and  some  boy  or  girl  comes  in, 
with  open  mind  and  poetic  fancy,  and  carries  away  a  trea- 
sure of  beauty  which  the  owner  never  saw.  In  some  cases, 
ownership  is  essential  to  enjoyment ;  in  others,  ownership 
excludes  it,  since  the  most  beautiful  things  are  by  nature 
indivisible.  What  are  the  things  that  give  men  the  keenest 
joy?  Precisely  the  things  which  belong  to  no  one;  such 
as  national  glory,  the  greatness  of  the  past,  the  supreme 
works  of  literature  and  art,  the  beauties  of  nature. 

Again,  a  good  name  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  great 
riches.  Character  is  property.  It  is  the  noblest  of  posses- 
sions. Charteris,  a  notorious  scoundrel  of  his  time,  once 
said  to  a  man  who  was  distinguished  for  his  religious 
principles,  "  I  would  give  a  thousand  pounds  to  have  your 
good  character."  "  Why  ?  "  inquired  the  other.  "  Because 
I  would  make  ten  thousand  pounds  by  it,"  was  the  reply. 
Epictetus  once  received  a  visit  from  a  certain  magnificent 
orator  going  to  Rome  on  a  lawsuit,  who  wished  to  learn 
from  the  Stoic  something  of  his  philosophy.  Epictetus 
received  his  visitor  coolly,  not  believing  in  his  sincerity. 
"You  will  only  criticize  my  style,"  said  he;  "not  really 


"IN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH?          233 

wishing  to  learn  principles."  "  Well,  but,"  said  the  orator, 
"  if  I  attend  to  that  sort  of  thing,  I  shall  be  a  mere  pauper 
like  you,  with  no  plate,  nor  equipage,  nor  land."  "  I  don't 
want  such  things,"  replied  Epictetus;  "and  besides,  you 
are  poorer  than  I  am,  after  all.  Patron  or  no  patron,  what 
care  I  ?  You  do  care.  I  am  richer  than  you.  I  don't 
care  what  Caesar  thinks  of  me.  I  flatter  no  one.  This  is 
what  I  have,  instead  of  your  gold  and  silver  plate.  You 
have  silver  vessels,  but  earthenware  reasons,  principles,  ap- 
petites. My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is,  and  it  furnishes 
me  with  abundant  and  happy  occupation  in  lieu  of  your 
restless  idleness.  All  your  possessions  seem  small  to 
you;  mine  seem  great  to  me.  Your  desire  is  insatiate — 
mine  is  satisfied." 

(  Consider,  again,  how  wealthy  persons  are  who  have 
succeeded  in  cultivating  good  tempers./  Hume,  the  his- 
torian, has  left  on  record  his  opinion,  that  the  disposition 
to  look  on  the  bright  side  of  things,  and  to  make  the  best 
of  everything  that  is  good,  is  equivalent  to  a  large  fortune 
to  its  happy  possessor.  To  himself  at  least  his  habit  of 
looking  on  the  bright  side  of  things  must  have"  been  to  Nas- 
myth  as  valuable  as  the  invention  of  the  steam-hammer. 
His  biographer  tells  us  that  he  used  to  think  one  of  his 
friends  had  a  charming  and  kindly  twinkle,  till  one  day  he 
discovered  that  he  had  a  glass  eye. 

"  My  kingdom  for  a  moment,"  said  Queen  Elizabeth  on 
her  death-bed ;  and  when  we  come  to  die  we,  too,  shall  con- 
sider time  the  truest  riches.  And  yet,  when  young  and 
strong,  how  prodigal  we  are  of  this  the  stuff  of  which  out 


234  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

lives  are  made.  We  kill  time,  though  in  doing  so  we  are 
far  more  wasteful  than  a  millionaire  would  be  if  he  were  to 
throw  sovereigns  and  diamonds  into  the  sea. 

Pope's  line — "  Man  never  is  but  always  to  be  blessed  " — 
furnishes  a  key  to  the  characters  of  a  large  class  of  persons. 
The  simple  pleasures  of  li'fe  which  it  is  in  the  power  of 
every  one  to  enjoy  are  uncared  for  by  them.  The  beauties 
of  nature  on  a  summer  day,  home,  the  love  of  children,  the 
pleasures  of  friendship — these  things  they  will  not  condes- 
cend to  notice,  much  less  to  appreciate  at  their  true  value. 
They  are  always  expecting  to  be  happy  in  a  future  day. 
Discontented  with  the  present,  they  crave  after  some  enjoy- 
ment of  a  thrilling,  exciting  kind,  which  they  look  forward 
to  obtaining  in  the  future.  They  can  never  realize  the  fact 
that  they  are  blessed  in  the  present,  and  that  the  future 
will  bring  with  it  no  greater  blessings.  Those  who  are  of 
this  temperament  feel  very  melancholy  when  they  arrive 
at  the  period  of  middle  age,  and  look  back  upon  their  lives. 
They  have  had  blessings  showered  upon  them,  and  yet  they 
have  enjoyed  nothing.  "  My  life  is  passing  very  quickly," 
they  think,  "  but  up  to  this  time  with  what  I  most  enjoyed 
I  have  been  least  contented.  Little  things  seemed  too 
small  to  afford  enjoyment,  and  great  pleasures  never  came. 
And  yet  how  happy  I  might  have  been  if  only  I  had  lived 
in  the  present,  and  ceased  to  expect  some  moment  of  un- 
defined pleasure  in  the  future.  Like  an  absent-minded 
man  who  looks  about  for  his  hat  when  it  is  on  his  head, 
I  have  had  simple  pleasures  near  me  without  ever  becoming 
aware  of  the  fact."  We  go  on  a  day's  excursion,  and  some 


"IN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH?          235 

little  jealousy  against  a  fellow  excursionist  deprives  us  of  the 
enjoyment  to  which  we  had  looked  forward.  We  get  out  of 
bed  "  on  the  wrong  side,"  as  it  is  said,  and  on  that  day  our 
only  pleasure  is  to  be  displeased.  Like  spoiled  children, 
we  break  our  toys  and  cry  for  new  ones.  We  become  sick 
of  ourselves  through  very  selfishness,  and  lo  !  hateful  are  the 
bright  blue  sky  and  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the  lilies  of 
the  fields ;  and  we  care  for  nobody,  and  nobody  cares  for 
us.  The  present  we  do  not  enjoy,  but  the  future — surely 
that  will  bring  us  bliss  ?  No ;  for  if  a  man  is  not  blessed 
he  never  will  be.  Truly  we  are  happier  than  we  know,  and 
we  ought  to  ask  God  in  all  time  of  our  wealth  to  give  us 
that  due  sense  of  His  mercies,  that  our  hearts  may  be  un- 
feignedly  thankful.  As  at  an  auction  we  let  good  bargains 
pass  because  we  fail  to  quickly  appreciate  and  bid  for  them, 
so  we  do  in  life.  We  let  pass  and  never  bid  for  many  of  the 
best  things  it  is  daily  offering  to  us. 

"  Oft  as  the  price-descending  hammer  falls 
He  notes  it  in  his  book,  then  raps  his  box, 
Swears  'tis  a  bargain,  rails  at  his  hard  fate 
That  he  has  let  it  pass — but  never  bids." 

"  Is  life  worth  living  ?  "  It  depends  upon  the  liver.  If 
one  don't  eat  too  much  there  is  enjoyment  in  the  world ; 
all  have  trials,  but  an  end  will  come  soon  enough.  "  'Tis 
always  morning  somewhere  in  the  world"  —  this  motto, 
written  on  a  sun-dial,  teaches  us  to  look  for  the  bright  side 
that  belongs  to  everything.) 

Whatever  be  our  lot  it  might  be  worse.  ^Esop  tells  us 
that  when  the  fox  complained  of  the  want  of  a  tail,  the  mould- 


236  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

warp  was  very  wroth  with  him  and  his  companions.  "  Yen 
complain  of  toys,  but  I  am  blind  j  be  quiet."  "  Fancy,5 
says  Carlyle  to  the  grumbler,  "  thou  deservest  to  be  hanged 
(as  is  most  likely),  thou  wilt  feel  it  happiness  to  be  only  shot" 

"  Having  food  and  raiment,  let  us  be  content."  Dioge- 
nes, walking  through  a  country  fair,  and  observing  ribbons 
and  looking-glasses,  and  nutcrackers,  and  fiddles,  and 
hobby  horses,  and  many  other  gimcracks,  is  said  to  have 
exclaimed,  "  Lord,  how  many  things  there  are  in  the  world 
of  which  Diogenes  hath  no  need  ! "  "  Who  is  the  richest 
of  men  ?  "  asked  Socrates.  "  He  who  is  content  with  the 
least,  for  contentment  is  nature's  riches."  Enough  is  enough. 

But  there  are  some  people  who,  like  the  Irish  nation, 
don't  want  to  be  satisfied ;  and  yet  if  all  men  had  to  bring 
their  burdens  and  lay  them  down,  the  most  discontented 
would  prefer  to  keep  their  own  rather  than  carry  the  bur- 
dens of  their  neighbours.  "  Thy  will  be  done."  Resigna- 
tion calms  our  passions,  controls  our  murmurs,  curtails  our 
griefs,  and  kindles  our  cheerfulness.  It  is,  as  Bishop  Butler 
has  said,  "  the  whole  of  religion."  Do  your  best,  and  trust 
for  the  rest.  Contentment  produces,  in  some  measure,  all 
those  effects  which  the  alchymist  used  to  ascribe  to  what 
he  called  the  Philosopher's  Stone ;  and  if  it  does  not  bring 
riches,  it  does  the  same  thing  by  banishing  the  desire  for 

them. 

"  Art  thou  poor,  yet  hast  thou  golden  slumbers  ? 

O  sweet  content ! 
Art  thou  rich,  yet  is  thy  mind  perplexed  ? 

O  punishment ! 

Dost  thou  laugh  to  see  how  fools  are  vexed 
To  add  to  golden  numbers,  golden  numbers  ? 
O  sweet  content !  O  sweet,  O  sweet  content  1 " 


"IN  ALL  TIME  OF  OUR  WEALTH? 


237 


Certainly  there  is  such  a  thing  as  "divine  discontent." 
We  should  never  be  content  with  our  sins  and  imperfec- 
tions, but  take  "  Excelsior  "  for  our  motto,  and  always  en- 
deavour to  move  upwards.  In  this  sense  it  is  surely  better 
to  be  Socrates  discontented,  than  a  pig  contented.  Every 
one  is  as  God  made  him,  and  oftentimes  a  great  deal  worse. 
That  we  are  worse  off  morally  than  we  might  be,  is  the  only 
real  cause  we  have  for  discontent,  and  surely  the  remedy  is 
in  our  own  hands. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

MORE    SUNSHINE. 

"  In  your  hearts  are  the  birds  and  the  sunshine, 
In  your  thoughts  the  brooklet's  flow. " — Longfellow 

"  Think,  every  morning  when  the  sun  peeps  through 
The  dim,  leaf-latticed  windows  of  the  grove, 
How  jubilant  the  happy  birds  renew 
Their  old  melodious  madrigals  of  love  ! 
And  when  you  think  of  this,  remember,  too, 
'Tis  always  morning  somewhere,  and  above 
The  awakening  continents,  from  shore  to  shore, 
Somewhere  the  birds  are  singing  evermore." — Ibid. 

"  'Tis  the  greatest  folly 
Not  to  be  jolly  ; 
That's  what  I  think  \"—Ibid. 

]HE  fable  tells  us  that  the  North  Wind  and  the 
Sun  disputed  which  was  the  more  powerful, 
and  agreed  that  he  should  be  declared  the 
victor  who  could  first  strip  a  wayfaring  man 
of  his  clothes.  The  North  Wind  first  tried 
his  power,  and  blew  with  all  his  might,  but  the  keener 


MORE  SUNSHINE.  239 

became  his  blasts  the  closer  the  traveller  wrapped  his  cloak 
around  him,  till  at  last,  resigning  all  hope  of  victory,  he 
called  upon  the  Sun  to  see  what  he  could  do.  The  sun 
suddenly  shone  out  with  all  his  warmth.  The  traveller  no 
sooner  felt  his  genial  rays  than  he  took  off  one  garment  after 
another,  and  at  last,  fairly  overcome  with  heat,  undressed, 
and  bathed  in  a  stream  that  lay  in  his  path. 

This  parable  teaches  that  persuasion  is  better  than  force, 
and  we  may  learn  from  it  also  how  powerful  is  the  moral 
sun  of  an  unselfish  temper  in  stripping  off  certain  habits 
that  make  people  hard  to  live  with.  We  all  know  that  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  moral  sunshine,  and  that  domestic 
happiness  depends  for  its  very  existence  upon  its  powerful 
influence.  The  moment  we  enter  a  sunny  household  we 
feel  its  genial  warmth.  Husband  and  wife  pull  together, 
they  love  and  help  each  other.  The  children  like  their 
lives,  and  every  one  in  the  household  feels  their  happiness. 
The  servants  find  their  places  so  comfortable  that  they  mean 
to  make  the  house  their  home.  There  is  a  natural  grace 
and  ease;  a  sense  of  refuge  from  disquiet.  Truly  the  light 
of  such  homes  is  sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the 
eyes  to  behold  the  sun. 

But  there  are  other  and  very  different  homes.  The 
shadows  that  God  sends  into  them  may  be  few,  but  the 
inmates  make  for  themselves  many.  Such  a  self-made 
shadow  is — grumbling.  What  if  breakfast  be  a  few  moments 
late,  or  the  coffee  not  quite  clear  ?  for  such  things  as  these 
is  a  man  to  be  sour  with  his  wife  and  disagreeable  to  his 
children  ?  What  though  a  girl  tear  her  frock,  a  boy  bring  a 


240  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

little  mud  indoors  on  careless  feet,  or  both  run  up  and  down 
stairs  faster  and  with  more  noise  than  is  desirable  ?  For 
these  things  shall  mother  fret  and  fume,  assume  the  air  of 
an  injured  martyr,  or  scold  like  "  Katharine  the  curst"  ? 

"A  woman  mov'd  is  like  a  fountain  troubled, 
Muddy,  ill-seeming,  thick,  bereft  of  beauty." 

How  foolish  she  is  to  thus  disfigure  herself  as  well  as  her 
home  by  reason  of  trifling  troubles,  which,  a  hundred 
minutes  after  they  occur,  seem  even  to  herself  to  be  of  no 
more  importance  than  "  the  thin  end  of  nothing  whittled 
fine!" 

Sunlike  pleasures  never  shine  in  idle  homes.  If  a  useful 
occupation  or  innocent  hobby  be  not  provided  for  the 
several  members  of  a  family  they  are  sure  to  spend  their 
time  in  maliciously  tormenting  each  other.  Something 
attempted,  something  done,  not  only  earns  the  night's  repose, 
but  enables  us  to  enjoy  the  sunshine  of  contentment  and 
good  temper  during  the  day.  Much  of  our  melancholy  ill- 
humour  disappears  like  a  nightmare  the  moment  we  bestir 
ourselves.  Even  the  baby  must  have  its  attention  occupied, 
or  it  will  loudly  testify  to  its  hatred  of  ennui. 

"  There  is  a  firefly  in  the  Southern  clime 
That  shineth  only  when  upon  the  wing. 
So  is  it  with  the  mind  ;  when  once  we  rest,  we  darken." 

How  much  more  we  might  make  of  our  family  life,  if  every 
secret  thought  of  love  blossomed  into  a  deed !  We  do  not 
speak  of  personal  caresses.  These  may,  or  may  not,  be  the 
best  language  of  affection.  Many  are  endowed  with  a 


MORE  SUNSHINE.  241 

delicacy,  a  fastidiousness  of  physical  organization,  which 
shrinks  from  too  much  of  these,  repelled  and  overpowered. 
But  there  are  words  and  looks,  and  little  observances,  and 
watchful  attentions,  which  speak  of  love,  which  make  it 
manifest,  and  there  is  scarce  a  family  which  might  not  be 
richer  in  heart  wealth  for  more  of  them. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  relations  must,  of  course, 
love  each  other  because  they  are  relations.  Love  must  be 
cultivated,  and  can  be  increased  by  judicious  culture,  as 
wild  fruits  may  double  their  bearing  under  the  hand  of  a 
gardener ;  and  love  can  dwindle  and  die  out  by  neglect,  as 
choice  flower- seeds  planted  in  poor  soil  dwindle  and  grow 
single. 

We  do  not  wish  to  imply  by  anything  that  has  been  said 
that  the  members  of  a  family  should  form  themselves  into 
"  a  mutual  admiration  society,"  too  polite  ever  to  findx  fault 
or  make  any  attempt  to  improve  each  other.  Such  excessive 
sweetness  would  not  be  wholesome. 

Good  nature  is  not  everything.  Indeed  it  is  possible  to 
be  so  good-natured  as  to  be  good  for  nothing.  Manners 
may  be  only  skin  deep.  A  man  may  "  smile  and  smile  and 
be  a  villain,"  and  we  have  all  known  husbands  and  fathers 
who  flattered  and  tried  to  please  their  wives  and  children  by 
words  only.  A  groom  used  to  spend  whole  days  in  curry- 
combing  and  rubbing  down  his  horse,  but  at  the  same  time 
stole  his  oats  and  sold  them.  "  Alas  ! "  said  the  horse,  "  if 
you  really  wish  me  to  be  in  good  condition,  you  would 
groom  me  less,  and  feed  me  more."  Still  the  rubbing  down 
process  need  not  and  ought  not  to  be  neglected.  The 

16 


242  "  MANNERS  MAK  YTH  MAN." 

"good  condition"  of  a  family  depends  to  a  great  degree 
upon  the  true  politeness  of  its  several  members. 

"  By  soft  endearments  in  kind  strife 
Lightening  the  load  of  daily  life  !  " 

Cheerfulness,  kindliness  of  manner,  and  willingness  to 
oblige — these  are  details  of  conduct  which  "  like  the  small 
change  in  the  intercourse  of  life  are  always  in  request." 

After  all  there  is  but  one  way  of  getting  sunshine  into  our 
hearts  and  homes. 

"  Oh  !  not  with  gloomy  brow  severe, 

But  clad  in  smiles  of  seraph  birth ; 
Religion  comes  to  light  and  cheer, 
To  sweeten  and  adorn  the  earth. 

And  would  you  see  where  she  abides  ? 

Go  seek  the  brightest  house  you  know, 
Where  kind  and  generous  thought  presides, 

And  strains  of  happy  feeling  flow. 

Where  Honour  shows  the  truest  face, 

And  Virtue  wears  the  mildest  air, 
And  Duty  moves  with  freest  grace, 

Nor  doubt  that  Christian  Faith  is  there." 

Religion,  when  it  comes  in  reality  into  men's  hearts,  urges 
them  to  be  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving 
one  another  even  as  they  themselves  feel  that  they  have 
been  forgiven.  It  teaches  them  the  art  of  living  for  others 
so  patiently  and  sweetly  that  they  enjoy  it  as  they  do  the 
sunshine.  Kindness  in  looks  and  words  and  ways  is  the 
religious  service  that  is  most  pleasing  to  Him  who  is  kind 
even  to  the  unthankful  and  evil.  Also  it  is  true  politeness, 
and  any  one  can  have  it  if  they  only  try  to  treat  other  people 


MORE  SUNSHINE.  243 

as  they  like  to  be  treated  themselves.  "  The  most  solid 
comfort,"  says  George  Eliot,  "  one  can  fall  back  upon  is  the 
thought  that  the  business  of  one's  life  is  to  help,  in  some 
small,  nibbling  way,  to  reduce  the  sum  of  ignorance,  degra- 
dation, and  misery  on  the  face  of  this  beautiful  earth." 

Life  has  always  been  compared  to  a  journey,  and  family 
life  may  be  compared  to  people  journeying  in  a  carriage 
reserved  for  private  use.  How  essential  it  is  that  each 
should  have  the  qualities  of  a  good  traveller !  There  is  a 
good  deal  to  test  the  temper  and  bring  out  character  in  one's 
travels  :  there  is  often  a  competition  of  tastes  and  interests, 
and  one  has  to  learn  to  bear  and  forbear.  The  outward 
expression  of  the  happy  traveller  is  mainly  that  of  gracious- 
ness — the  most  rare  and  engaging  of  human  qualities. 
There  is  a  healthy  mental  and  moral  play  of  faculties ;  there 
is  a  harmony  with  oneself  and  all  surroundings,  and  with 
heaven ;  there  are  insight  and  sympathy  and  the  law  of 
kindness ;  there  is  the  desire  to  invest  each  life  thrown  into 
contact  with  a  portion  of  this  happiness ;  there  is  the 
instinct  to  make  the  lightest  of  everything  that  is  unfavour- 
able. 

On  every  trip  you  meet  two  classes  of  travellers.  One  is 
always  complaining  of  the  dust,  the  noise,  the  disagreeable 
people.  When  the  weather  has  been  very  dry  for  a  long 
time,  and  it  at  last  changes,  the  grumbler  being  unable  to 
complain  of  the  rain,  complains  that  it  did  not  come  sooner. 
Very  different  is  the  easily-pleased  traveller.  He  cannot  go 
half  a  dozen  miles  without  meeting  some  agreeable  com- 
panion or  some  interesting  adventure,  and  if  the  weather  is 


244  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

not  quite  perfect  he  tells  you  cheerfully  that  "  any  weather 
is  better  than  none."  So  it  is,  that  however  lovely  nature 
may  be  around  us,  and  however  happy  the  circumstances  of 
our  lives  ought  to  make  us, 

/  "  We  receive  but  what  we  give, 

And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live."/ 

All  depends  on  the  attitude  of  our  mind  and  heart.  The 
pessimist  believes  that  "  it  is  better  to  stand  than  to  walk  ; 
better  to  sit  than  to  stand  ;  better  to  lie  down  than  to  sit  ; 
better  to  sleep  than  to  wake  j  better  is  a  dreamless  sleep 
than  dreams  ;  death  is  better  than  even  a  dreamless  sleep  ; 
and  never  to  have  been  is  the  best  of  all."  Another  man 
with  less  reason  in  the  outward  circumstances  of  his  life, 
becomes  an  optimist.  He  takes  a  rose-water  view  of  every- 
thing, believes  that  this  is  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  and 
returns  daily  thanks  for  his  creation,  preservation,  and  all 
the  blessings  of  this  life. 


!  don't  the  days  seem  lank  and  long 
When  all  goes  right  and  nothing  goes  wrong  ? 
And  isn't  your  life  extremely  flat 
When  you've  nothing  whatever  to  grumble  at  ?  "/ 

This  question  may  be  asked  of  the  class  of  persons  who 
are  never  happy  without  a  grievance,  who  enjoy  as  luxuries 
their  trifling  or  imaginary  woes,  who  "  lie  like  a  hedge- 
hog rolled  up  the  wrong  way  tormenting  itself  with  its 
prickles."  When  Boswell  was  starting  for  a  tour  on  the 
continent,  in  his  sentimental  way,  he  began  to  imagine  whole 
hosts  of  possible  miseries  which  might  await  him.  While  he 
was  weaving  his  silly  fancies,  a  moth  fluttered  into  the  flame 


MORE  SUNSHINE.  245 

of  the  candle  and  was  burned ;  upon  which  Dr.  Johnson  slily 
but  gravely  remarked,  "  That  creature  was  its  own  tormentor, 
and  I  believe  its  name  was  Boswell."  Next  day  the  Doctor 
honoured  his  biographer  by  accompanying  him  as  far  as 
Harwich,  where  they  dined  at  an  inn  by  themselves. 
Boswell  happened  to  say  it  would  be  "  terrible  "  if  his  friend 
should  be  detained  long  in  such  a  dull  place.  Johnson : 
"Don't,  sir,  accustom  yourself  to  use  big  words  for  little 
matters.  It  would  not  be  terrible,  though  I  were  to  be 
detained  some  time  here."  Johnson  hated  sentimentalism 
as  one  of  the  sickliest  of  shams.  "  These,"  he  would  say, 
"are  the  distresses  of  sentiment,  which  a  man  who  is  really 
to  be  pitied  has  no  leisure  to  feel.  The  sight  of  people  who 
want  food  and  raiment  is  so  common  in  great  cities,  that  a 
surly  fellow  like  me  has  no  compassion  to  spare  for  wounds 
given  only  to  vanity  or  softness."  Speaking  of  a  lady  who 
had  been  disappointed  of  an  inheritance,  some  one  remarked, 

" will  grieve  at   her   friend's    disappointment."      Said 

Johnson,  "  She  will  suffer  as  much  perhaps  as  your  horse 
did  when  your  cow  miscarried." 

There  are  many  good  recipes  for  lowness  of  spirits.  Here 
is  one,  "  Take  one  ounce  of  the  seeds  of  Resolution,  properly 
mixed  with  the  oil  of  Good  Conscience ;  infuse  into  it  a  large 
spoonful  of  the  Salts  of  Patience;  distil-  very  carefully  a 
composing  plant  called  '  Others1  Woes,'  which  you  will  find 
in  every  part  of  the  Garden  of  Life,  growing  under  the  broad 
leaves  of  Disguise;  add  a  small  quantity ;  it  will  much  assist 
the  Salts  of  Patience  in  their  operation.  Gather  a  handful 
of  the  Blossoms  of  Hope ;  then  sweeten  them  properly  with 


246  «  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

a  Syrup,  made  of  the  Balm  of  Providence ;  and  if  you  can 
get  any  of  the  seed  of  True  Friendship,  you  will  have  the 
most  valuable  Medicine  that  can  be  administered.  But  you 
must  be  careful  that  you  get  the  right  seed  of  True  Friend- 
ship, as  there  is  a  seed  that  very  much  resembles  it,  called 
Self  Interest,  which  will  spoil  the  whole  composition. 

"  Make  the  ingredients  up  into  pills,  which  may  be  called 
Pills  of  Comfort.  Take  one  night  and  morning,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  cure  will  be  completed." 

When  a  storm  arises,  we  look  ahead  for  the  clearer  air  and 
the  brighter  sky  that  will  follow ;  and  he  who  traces  the  same 
law  in  the  storms  of  life  has  the  clearest  and  truest  mental 
vision.  And  when  we  fail  to  trace  this  law,  we  shall  do  well 
to  trust  it.  * 

**  All  my  life  I  still  have  found, 
And  I  will  forget  it  never, 
Every  sorrow  hath  its  bound, 

And  no  cross  endures  for  ever. 
After  all  the  winter's  snows 

Comes  sweet  summer  back  again  ; 
Joy  is  given  for  all  our  woes, 

Patient  souls  ne'er  wait  in  vain. 
All  things  else  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lasts  for  aye  ! "  / 

We  know  what  was  the  Alderman's  advice  to  his  son  in 
Leech's  sketch.  Mr.  Gobble :  "  You  see,  Sam,  you  are  a 
werry  young  man ;  and  when  I  am  took  away  (which,  in 
the  common  course  of  ewents,  can't  be  werry  long  fust),  you 
will  have  a  great  deal  of  property.  Now,  I've  only  one  piece 
of  adwice  to  give  you.  It's  this — and  by  all  means  act  upon 
it : — Lay  down  plenty  of  port  in  your  youth  that  you  may 


MORE  SUNSHINE.  247 

have  a  good  bottle  of  wine  in  your  old  age."  It  requires 
something  better  than  port  wine  to  dispel  the  clouds  that 
darken  and  sadden  the  old  age  of  so  many,  and  make  it  a 
period  from  which  we  shrink.  During  the  sunny  days  of 
youth  quite  other  instruction  than  that  of  the  Alderman 
must  be  given  and  followed  if  those  habits  are  to  be  formed 
which  keep  the  soul  healthy  and  the  affections  pure  and 
fresh  to  the  last.  Let  us  compare  St.  Paul's  advice  with 
that  of  the  Alderman,  and  ask  ourselves  which  is  more 
likely  to  give  us  a  sunshiny  old  age — "  Be  not  drunk  with 
wine,  wherein  is  excess  (riot),  but  be  rilled  with  the  Spirit ; 
speaking  one  to  another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs,  singing  and  making  melody  with  your  heart  to  the 
Lord."  Someone  said  to  one  who  had  this  sort  of  melody 
in  his  old  age — "  You  are  on  the  shady  side  of  seventy,  I 
expect  ?  "  "  No,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  am  on  the  sunny  side  ; 
for  I  am  on  the  side  nearest  to  glory." 

Was  it  not  a  pretty  thought,  that  of  the  gay  young  Southern 
girl  dancing  with  a  sort  of  ecstasy  among  the  falling  leaves, 
whose  brilliancy  she  had  never  seen  in  her  sea-coast  home  ? 
To  one  near  her,  saddening  over  their  fall,  she  said  :  "  Just 
think  how  much  more  room  it  gives  you  to  see  the  beautiful 
blue  sky  beyond  ! "  Is  it  not  true  that,  as  our  little  joys  and 
pleasures  and  earth's  many  lovely  things  fade  and  pass,  they 
open  spaces  tor  us  in  which  to  see  God's  heaven  beyond  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


DISTINGUISHED    SERVICE   IN   PASSION. 


"  Oft  in  life's  stillest  shade  reclining, 
In  desolation  unrepining, 
Meek  souls  there  are,  who  little  dream 
Their  daily  strife  an  angel's  theme, 
Or  that  the  rod  they  take  so  calm, 
Shall  prove  in  heaven  a  martyr's  palm." — Keblc. 

IICTORIA  CROSSES  and  other  rewards  are 
given  for  distinguished  service  in  action  ;  but 
is  there  not  such  a  thing  as  distinguished 
service  in  passion  or  suffering,  and  does  it 
not  deserve  even  higher  rewards?  We  are 
apt  to  forget  that  it  requires  often  more  courage  to  suffer 
well  than  to  do  well,  and  to  disparage  the  first  virtue  because 
it  especially  belongs  to  the  so-called  "  weaker  sex."  And 
yet  we  cannot  but  admire  the  patient  continuance  in  well 
suffering  of  women.  While  many  men,  if  they  have  a  pain 
in  their  little  finger,  are  in  the  highest  degree  impatient, 


DISTINGUISHED  SERVICE  IN  PASSION.        249 

fragile  women  are  sometimes  the  most  exemplary  of  patients 
in  the  trials  of  mind,  body,  or  estate.  The  way  most 
persons  accept  misfortune  is  the  greatest  misfortune  of  all, 
while  nothing  is  a  misfortune  if  taken  bravely  and  without 
murmuring.  "  Every  time  the  sheep  bleats  it  loses  a  mouth- 
ful, and  every  time  we  complain  we  miss  a  blessing." 

Driving  up  Holborn  Hill,  a  costermonger's  donkey  refused 
to  go  farther ;  so  the  man  took  the  animal  out  of  the  shafts, 
and  began  pulling  the  cart  up  the  hill.  Some  one  asked  why 
he  did  that.  "Oh,  I'm  trying  to  shame  'im  into  it !"  In 
the  same  way  we  ought  to  be  shamed  into  bearing  patiently 
our  small  trials,  when  we  consider  the  pains  which  martyrs 
have  endured,  and  think  how  even  now  many  people  are 
bearing  affliction  beyond  all  measure  greater  than  ours. 
What  is  my  trouble  to  that  of  those  whose  life  is  a  con- 
tinual death,  without  solace,  or  aid,  or  consolation  ? 

Every  day  clergymen  and  doctors  see  people  with  cheer- 
ful submission  enduring  pain  which  amazes  them  that  any 
poor  human  being  can  exist  under  its  severity.  In  a  certain 
miserable  court,  as  I  have  been  informed,  there  lives  an  old 
woman  crippled  and  deformed  in  every  joint  by  chronic 
rheumatism.  Listen  !  she  speaks  of  her  gratitude.  For 
what?  Because,  with  the  assistance  of  a  knitting-needle 
and  her  thumb,  the  only  joint  that  will  move,  she  can  turn 
over  the  leaves  of  her  Bible.  The  homely  words  of  another 
poor  old  woman  showed  that  she  understood  4he  service  of 
patience.  She  was  brought  in  her  old  age  to  believe  in 
Jesus  as  her  Saviour.  Ever  ready  to  speak  of  Him,  she 
was  one  who  went  about  doing  good ;  but  in  the  midst 


250  « MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

of  her  labours  she  caught  cold,  and  was  confined  to  bed. 
The  clergyman  came  to  see  her,  and  said,  "  I  little  expected 
to  find  you  so  patient  in  bed,  when  you  have  always  led  such 
an  active  life.  It  must  be  a  trial  to  lie  there  so  long."  "Not 
at  all,  sir,"  said  Betty ;  "  when  I  was  well  I  used  to  hear  the 
Lord  say  to  me  daily,  *  Betty,  go  here ;  Betty,  go  there ; 
Betty,  do  this  ;  Betty,  do  that ; '  and  I  did  it  as  well  as  I 
could.  Now  it  seems  as  if  I  hear  Him  say  daily,  *  Betty, 
lie  still  and  cough.'"  No  wonder  that  Edward  Denison, 
who  worked  so  hard  in  the  East  End  of  London,  used  to 
speak  of  "  the  many  proofs  offered  to  every  reflecting  mind 
that  the  poor  are  blessed  indeed,  and  that  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  You  never  hear  the  poor  complain 
of  the  weather ;  if  you  remark  upon  it  they  say,  *  Well,  it's 
as  God  sends  it.'  They  take  suffering  and  humiliation  as 
their  proper  lot,  and  really  look  forward  with  hope  and  trust 
to  the  event  from  which  the  rich  man  recoils  in  horror." 

What  distinguished  service  in  action  more  deserved  a 
Victoria  Cross  than  the  service  in  suffering  of  Robert  Hall, 
the  great  preacher,  who,  being  afflicted  with  an  acute  disease 
which  sometimes  caused  him  to  roll  on  the  floor  with  agony, 
would  rise  therefrom,  wiping  from  his  brow  the  drops  of 
sweat  which  the  pain  had  caused,  and,  trembling  from  the 
conflict,  ask,  "  But  I  did  not  complain — I  did  not  cry  out 
much,  did  I?" 

At  the  end  of  a  letter  to  a  friend,  Sydney  Smith  adds 
playfully,  "  I  have  gout,  asthma,  and  seven  other  maladies, 
but  am  otherwise  very  well."  On  another  occasion  he 
writes : 


DISTINGUISHED  SERVICE  IN  PASSION.      251 

"  MY  DEAR  Miss  MARTINEAU, — What  an  admirable  pro- 
vision of  Providence  is  the  gout !  What  prevents  human 
beings  from  making  the  body  a  larder  or  a  cellar  but  the 
gout?  When  I  feel  a  pang,  I  say,  'I  know  what  this  is  for; 
I  know  what  you  mean ;  I  understand  the  hint ! '  and  so  I 
endeavour  to  extract  a  little  wisdom  from  pain. 

"SYDNEY  SMITH." 

The  biographical  notices  of  the  late  Professor  Fawcett 
were  eagerly  read,  for  we  all  admired  the  way  he  bore  the 
terrible  loss  of  sight,  and  found  in  that  loss  a  gain  to  match. 
He  never  saw  so  well,  it  might  almost  be  said,  until  he 
became  blind,  and  few  people  who  can  see  have  led  a 
more  active  life.  Of  course  energy  of  character  like  this  is 
rare,  but  all,  whom  affliction  forces  to  retire  from  active  life, 
may  console  themselves,  as  the  poet  Milton  did  on  his 
blindness  : 

"God  doth  not  need 

Either  man's  work  or  His  own  gifts  ;  who  best 
Bear  His  mild  yoke,  they  serve  Him  best :  His  state 
Is  kingly  ;  thousands  at  His  bidding  speed, 
And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest ; 
They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait  ! " 

Loss  of  estate  is  not  to  be  compared  with  the  loss  of 
bodily  or  mental  health ;  but  it  is  hard  to  come  down  in  the 
world,  and  few  are  able  to  distinguish  themselves  by  bearing 
this  sort  of  suffering  in  a  righteous  and  graceful  manner.  I 
know,  however,  of  one  family  that  does  so.  The  father  was 
a  rich  man,  but  he  speculated  and  lost  almost  everything. 
Thinking  that  his  family  could  never  accommodate  them- 


252  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

selves  to  altered  circumstances,  he  allowed  the  money  losses 
to  prey  upon  his  mind,  and  committed  suicide.  His  widow 
and  children  did  accommodate  themselves  to  circumstances. 
They  took  a  very  small  house,  dismissed  all  servants  except 
one,  and  now  that  the  shock  is  passing  away  they  are 
perhaps  quite  as  happy,  helping  themselves  and  each  other, 
as  they  were  when  surrounded  by  useless  servants  and  all 
the  luxuries  that  money  could  purchase.  When  Archbishop 
Leighton  lost  his  patrimony  by  the  failure  of  a  merchant,  he 
only  said,  "  The  little  that  was  in  Mr.  E.'s  hands  hath  failed 
me,  but  I  shall  either  have  no  need  of  it,  or  be  supplied  in 
some  other  way."  On  his  brother-in-law  expressing  surprise 
that  he  took  the  matter  so  easily,  he  answered,  "  If,  when 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  after  losing  nineteen  times  as  much 
of  yearly  income,  can  dance  and  sing,  the  solid  hopes  of 
Christianity  will  not  support  us,  we  had  better  be  in  the 
other  world." 

If  we  do  not  die  soon,  the  trials  of  old  age  will  be  upon 
us.  May  we  bear  them  as  Miss  Mitford,  the  authoress  of 
"Our  Village,"  did!  "She  retained  her  fine  temper,  her 
exquisite  enjoyment  of  the  simple  commonplace  pleasures  of 
daily  life,  and  her  literary  tastes  and  perceptions,  with  such 
a  liveliness  of  spirit,  and  such  a  tenderness  of  heart,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  time  could  not  touch  her,  and  that,  notwith- 
standing her  seventy  years,  she  could  not  grow  old.  She 
took  as  keen  an  interest  as  ever  in  the  new  poet,  the  new 
painter,  .  .  .  the  new  flower." 

Let  us  hope  that  there  will  be  rewards  in  the  shape  of 
happy  reunions  in  heaven  for  those  who  have  borne  with 


DISTINGUISHED  SERVICE  IN  PASSION.      253 

Christian  resignation  the  sad  partings  of  earth.  Guthrie,  the 
father  of  the  Scottish  martyr,  had  the  bloody  head  of  his  son 
brought  to  him,  and  was  asked  whether  he  knew  it.  He 
recognized  it,  and  without  murmuring  said,  "Good  is  the 
will  of  the  Lord."  The  Rev.  Mr.  Glasse,  of  Perth,  when 
he  heard  that  a  son  whose  return  from  a  foreign  country  he 
had  been  expecting  was  murdered,  received  the  awful  intelli- 
gence with  composure,  and  a  few  hours  afterwards  took  the 
chair  at  a  church  meeting,  remarking  that  it  would  be  a 
glorious  triumph  of  Divine  grace  if  his  son  and  his  mur- 
derers should  meet  together  in  heaven. 

All  the  world  has  heard  of  John  Newton's  romantic 
attachment  to  his  wife — a  love  which  had  been  one  of  the 
means  under  God  of  preventing  him  from  being  finally 
engulfed  in  the  deep  waters  of  profligacy.  Yet,  when, 
after  a  long  union,  she  was  taken  from  him,  he  prayed  for 
special  grace  to  support  him,  and  received  it.  He  was 
enabled  to  preach  her  funeral  sermon  from  the  text,  "  I  will 
rejoice  in  the  Lord."  He  also  recorded  that  though  she  had 
never  since  her  death  been  five  minutes  out  of  his  thoughts, 
and  though  he  felt  that  his  right  eye  had  been  taken  and  his 
right  hand  cut  off,  and  that  though  all  the  wealth  of  the  Bank 
of  England  was  unable  to  compensate  him  for  her  loss,  yet 
he  had  not  had  one  uncomfortable  day  or  restless  night  since 
she  left  him,  but  was  enabled  to  pursue  his  course  of  useful- 
ness, looking  forward  to  a  happy  reunion. 

Sometimes  the  highest  kind  of  courage  consists  in  not 
striking  a  blow.  A  foolish  young  man  who  quarrelled  with 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  tried  to  provoke  him  to  fight,  went  so 


254  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

far  as  to  spit  in  his  face.  "  Young  man,"  said  Sir  Philip, 
"if  I  could  as  easily  wipe  your  blood  from  my  conscience 
as  I  can  wipe  this  insult  from  my  face  I  would  this  moment 
take  your  life."  This  was  the  highest  kind  of  manliness — 
the  manliness  of  Him  who,  when  reviled,  reviled  not  again. 

Nor  are  those  whose  service  in  passion  is  distinguished 
altogether  without  reward,  or  at  least  compensation,  even  in 
this  life.  "  There  is  a  joy  in  endurance  greater  than  all 
the  joys  of  indulgence.  They  mistake  who  think  that  the 
highest  happiness  lies  in  wishes  accomplished,  in  prosperity, 
wealth,  favour,  and  success.  There  has  been  a  joy  in 
dungeons  and  on  racks  passing  the  joy  of  harvest  j  a  joy 
strange  and  solemn  and  mysterious  even  to  its  possessor ;  a 
white  stone  dropped  from  the  signet  ring  of  peace  which  the 
dying  Saviour  took  from  His  bosom  and  bequeathed  to  those 
who  endure  the  cross,  despising  the  shame." 

Perhaps  nothing  suggests  sadder  thoughts  than  a  hospital 
for  incurables,  and  yet  we  have  good  reasons  for  hoping  that 
in  the  infinite  scheme  of  things  there  has  been  provision  made 
for  the  wretched  inmates  of  such  hospitals.  Certainly, 
their  sufferings  are  not  entirely  wasted  when  by  assisting 
them  the  strong  and  rich  become  less  hard  of  heart.  And 
if  we  believe  that  the  bodies  of  these  incurables  are  vehicles 
which  carry  souls  never  destined  to  perish  through  the  series 
of  ages,  then  all  their  sufferings  here  would  be  more  brief 
compared  with  eternity  than  is  the  cry  of  the  new-born  babe 
compared  to  the  whole  life  of  a  man. 

If  the  bodies,  minds,  and  lives  of  many  of  us  are  more  01 
less  incurably  marred  in  this  life,  let  us  look  to  the  world  to 


DISTINGUISHED  SERVICE  IN  PASSION.      255 


come  as  hopefully  as  did  Franklin  when  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing epitaph  for  himself :  "  The  body  of  Benjamin  Franklin, 
printer  (like  the  cover  of  an  old  book,  its  contents  torn  out, 
and  stripped  of  its  lettering  and  gilding),  lies  here,  food  for 
worms ;  yet  the  work  itself  shall  not  be  lost,  but  it  will  (as 
he  believed)  appear  once  more,  in  a  new  and  more  beautiful 
edition,  corrected  and  amended  by  the  Author." 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


WHAT   IS   RELIGION? 


"  They  ask  me  for  secrets  of  salvation  :  for  myself  I  know  no  secrets 
but  this — to  love  God  with  all  our  hearts,  and  our  neighbour  as  our- 
selves."— St.  Francis  de  Sales. 

"I  endeavour  in  vain  to  give  my  parishioners  more  cheerful  ideas  of 
religion  ;  to  teach  them  that  God  is  not  a  jealous,  childish,  merciless 
tyrant ;  that  He  is,  best  served  by  a,  regular .  tenour  of  good  actions,  not 
by  bad  singing,  ill-composed  prayers,  and  eternal  apprehensions.  But 
the  luxury  of  false  religion  is,  to  be  unhappy  1 " — Sydney  Smith. 

|ELIGION  is  such  a  large  subject  that  only 
one  side  of  it  can  be  seen  at  a  time.  We 
make  this  obvious  remark  in  order  that  we 
may  not  be  suspected  of  ignoring,  in  what 
we  are  going  to  say,  the  many  other  sides  of 
religion  that  will  suggest  themselves  to  the  reader's  mind. 

If  people  in  general  only  knew  what  practical  religion  is, 
many  more  would  strive  to  become  possessors  of  this  pearl 


WHA  T  IS  RELIGION  f  257 

of  great  price.  But  no  word  is  so  wrongly  used  as  religion. 
So  many  false  things  are  called  by  this  name  that  it  is  per- 
haps easier  to  say  what  is  .not  than  what  is  true  religion. 
The  first  popular  error  to  which  we  allude  is  that  which 
associates  religion  almost  exclusively  with  the  contemplation 
of  death.  Certainly  death  is  awful  to  all,  as  a  sudden 
presence  with  the  unseen,  and  as  the  crisis  of  probation  for 
an  eternal  state.  But  there  is  one  thing  more  awful  than 
death,  and  that  is — life.  Death  truly  may  be  considered 
the  least  important  passage  in  a  man's  life.  All  that  is  of 
future  account  has  then  been  generally  wound  up.  Death 
comes,  even  if  not  suddenly,  at  a  time  when  men  are  past 
any  trustworthy  change  of  character ;  their  habits  too  in- 
veterate for  any  new  turn  in  hours  of  weakness ;  their 
minds  clouded;  their  thoughts  more  or  less  morbid,  dis- 
turbed, uncollectable,  or  torpid ;  their  wills  and  resolutions 
vague,  uncertain,  and  incapable  of  test.  And  character, 
habit  of  mind,  and  tested  will,  are  the  only  products  of  this 
probationary  state  having  permanent  consequence  to  any- 
body. It  is,  therefore,  present  life,  and  not  the  passage  of 
death,  that  is  most  awful,  because  the  eternal  future  is  being 
wrought  out  in  it. 

Religion  is  required  to  ennoble  and  sanctify  this  present 
all-important  life  much  more  than  as  a  mere  memento  mori. 
Though  he  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  religious  faith  can  dispel  from  the  Christian's  mind 
fear  of  evil,  but  it  can  do  even  more  than  this,  it  can  give 
a  daily  beauty  to  our  lives.  Nor  is  religion  to  be  regarded 
as  a  special  province,  and  as  something  distinct  from  instead 

17 


258  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

of  wholly  feeding  on  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  as  fire  feeds 
on  fuel.  In  this  view  all  the  interests,  affections,  and  en- 
gagements of  life  are  eyed  askance  as  secularities,  and 
religion  is  presented  apart  as  a  separate  devotion,  or  the 
mere  acceptance  of  an  orthodox  creed.  But  religion  con- 
sists not  in  this  or  that  employment,  but  in  the  spirit  of  all 
employments,  and  may  be  realized  alike  in  every  station. 
The  difference  is  not  in  the  occupation  but  in  the  spirit  and 
the  intention  of  the  worker. 

Does  religious  work  consist  only  in  performing  devotions 
directly  to  God  ?  Is  a  man  religiously  employed  only  when 
he  is  praying,  listening  to  sermons,  or  reading  what  are 
called  "  good  books  "  ?  Many  persons  have  no  wider  con- 
ception of  religion  than  this.  It  is  thought  that  religion 
consists  only  in  immediate  thoughts  of  God,  in  immediate 
addresses  to  Him,  in  emotions  called  for  by  contemplation 
of  Him.  Certainly  those  who  enter  by  faith  into  com- 
munion with  the  unseen  world  have  joy  unspeakable ;  but 
can  this  long  be  sustained  ?  No ;  for  this  is  not  the  ordi- 
nary state  of  even  the  most  religious.  Few,  indeed,  are 
constitutionally  fitted  for  such  sustained  thought  and  feeling. 
The  greater  part,  too,  of  life  is  necessarily  devoted  to  other 
duties  and  engagements,  to  toils  and  relaxations,  to  what  is 
called  "the  work  of  the  week."  This  being  the  case,  we 
must  seek  for  a  more  practical  definition  of  religious  work. 
Shall  we  say  that  it  means  doing  everything  we  do  as  unto 
God,  and  not  unto  ourselves,  doing  everything  as  if  we  felt 
that  His  all-seeing  eye  were,  indeed,  upon  us?  There 
ought  to  be  absolutely  no  distinction  between  things  re- 


WHA  T  IS  RELIGION ?  259 

ligious  and  things  secular ;  for  the  spirit  of  religion  ought 
to  sanctify  every  department  of  life.  As  it  is,  there  is  too 
much  worldliness  in  religion,  and  not  enough  religion  in  the 
world.  Would  to  God  that  we  had  as  much  of  the  spirit  of 
religion  in  our  social  and  business  relations  as  some  of  us 
have  of  the  spirit  of  selfishness  and  irreligion  in  our  re- 
ligion !  The  work  that  Christians  have  to  do  for  God  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  natural  outgoing  or  influence 
of  their  lives — lives  which,  blotting  out  the  distinction  be- 
tween things  religious  and  secular,  should  make  both  one — 
all  work  religion,  and  all  life  worship.  Such  a  view  of 
religion  gives  interest  to  common  existence,  and  urges  us 
to  pray  that  our  Heavenly  Father  would  give  us  the  eye 
which  can  see  Him  in  all,  the  hand  which  can  serve  Him 
with  all,  and  the  heart  which  can  bless  Him  for  all. 

It  is  certainly  not  necessary  for  one  who  desires  to  be 
religious  to  adopt  the  mannerisms  of  thought  and  speech 
assumed  by  professedly  "very  good  people."  Religion  is 
sometimes  considered  by  such  persons  as  a  kind  of  preserve 
into  which  the  profane  foot  of  reason  and  science  must  not 
enter.  They  view  many  of  the  innocent  amusements  that 
brighten  life  with  grudging  acerbity.  Busied  with  the  sal- 
vation of  their  own  souls,  or  in  preparation  for  a  world 
to  come,  they  think  it  right  to  stand  aloof  from  the 
actual  battle  of  life.  There  is  but  too  much  truth  in  the 
caricatures  of  religionists  of  this  type  that  are  drawn  by 
popular  novelists.  But  a  religious  person  need  not  be 
peculiar  and  eccentric  unless,  indeed,  it  be  a  peculiarity  in 
this  wicked  world  to  try  to  avoid  sin.  We  read  that  the 


26o  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

two  demoniacs  of  Gadara  thought  that  Jesus  Christ  had 
landed  on  the  shore  of  their  country  "  to  torment  them 
before  the  time,"  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  many  people 
even  now  associate  with  His  religion  something  of  a  prema- 
turely tormenting  character.  These  persons  complain  that 
religion  torments  by  putting  restraint  upon  their  actions. 
But  how  is  this  a  hardship,  considering  that  every  man,  if 
he  is  to  be  a  man  at  all,  must  control  himself?  He  who 
does  not  do  this  sinks  from  being  a  man  and  becomes  a 
brute.  Did  we  not  thus  restrain  ourselves  we  should  be 
mastered  by  our  passions,  and  these  would,  indeed,  be 
tormentors.  In  comparison  with  this  slavery  to  self,  Christ's 
service  is  perfect  freedom.  Every  pleasure  and  every  business 
which  a  true  man  may  take  part  in  may  be  taken  part  in  by 
a  Christian.  "  All  are  yours,"  said  St.  Paul,  as  much  as  to  say 
it  is  possible  to  use  everything  in  this  world  without  abusing 
it.  Christ  has  not  come  to  torment  us  by  preventing  our 
enjoyment  of  a  single  lawful  pleasure,  for  a  Christian  may 
say,  "  I  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man  ;  who  dares  do 
more  is  none."  Nor  does  Christ  torment  us  by  taking  up 
all  our  time.  We  may  be  religious  without  time  or  leisure. 
It  is  no  excuse,  and  shows  a  mistaken  notion  as  to  what 
religion  is,  to  say,  "  Oh,  I  am  a  busy  man,  and  have  no 
time  for  religion."  What  time  does  it  require  to  do  every- 
thing to  the  glory  of  God  ?  and  that  is  true  religion. 

To  be  religious  means  to  walk  with  God  as  did  Enoch 
and  Noah,  to  feel  on  each  occasion  the  truth  of  the  words, 
"Thou,  God,  seest  me,"  to  live  a  high  level  life.  Fra 
Angelico,  who  commenced  each  work  of  art  with  prayera 


WHAT  IS  RELIGION?  261 

was  religious,  and  so  is  every  one  else  who  tries,  whether  he 
eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  he  do,  to  do  all  to  the  glory 
of  God.  Those  only  are  truly  religious  who  mingle  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  as  leaven  in  the  lump  of  their  pleasures 
and  occupations  until  the  whole  is  leavened.  True  religion 
is  a  life  and  set  of  principles  rather  than  a  collection  of 
laws  and  rules.  It  is  the  power  of  Christ's  endless  life 
ennobling  and  sanctifying  the  daily  round,  the  common 
task.  The  first  and  last  business  of  religion  is  to  inspire 
men  and  women  with  a  desire  to  do  their  duty,  and  to  show 
them  what  their  duty  is. 

Certainly  religion  is  something  higher  and  more  practical 
than  "  mere  morality."  Comparing  morality  to  a  steam- 
engine,  religion  is  the  steam  that  gives  to  it  motive-power. 
The  root  of  the  matter  is  in  those  whose  lives  produce 
good  fruit,  and  Christ's  inspiring  Spirit  is  this  root.  Without 
Him  we  can  do  nothing.  According  to  the  derivation  of 
the  word,  religion  is  "that  which  binds  one  back  from 
doing  something  " — wrong.  And  what  is  "  that  which  binds 
us"  but  the  cords  of  love  whereby  the  believer's  heart  is 
drawn  into  union  with  his  Redeemer,  so  that  he  loves 
what  He  loves,  and  hates  what  He  hates  ? 

During  the  battle  of  Inkerman  a  man  in  plain  clothes 
was  seen  making  his  way  to  the  front.  An  officer  stopped 
him  and  said,  "  Where  are  you  going  ?  What  do  you  want 
there?  You  are  a  civilian.  Go  back."  Duty  ordered 
him  to  the  rear,  but  love  carried  him  on.  "  I  am  Lord 
Raglan's  servant,"  said  he.  "It  is  his  luncheon-time.  My 
master  is  not  so  young  as  he  was ;  he  cannot  do  without 


262  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

his  luncheon.  I  must  be  there."  And  through  shot  and 
shell  he  reached  his  master,  and  served  him  there — through 
love.  Love  is  as  steam  ;  ay,  better  than  steam.  Steam 
goes  by  fire  and  water ;  love  goes  through  fire  and  water. 
All  the  fire  in  the  world  will  never  consume  it;  all  the 
floods  of  the  earth  will  never  quench  or  drown  it. 

If  this  be  true  as  regards  love  to  a  fellow-creature,  how 
much  more  does  it  apply  to  love  to  God  and  the  Saviour  as 
a  principle  of  action  ! 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

"  HOW   DO   YOU   DO  ?  " 

"  Run  now,  I  pray  thee,  to  meet  her,  and  say  unto  her,  Is  it  well 
with  thee  ?  is  it  well  with  thy  husband  ?  is  it  well  with  the  child  ?  " — 
2  Kings  iv.  26. 

jjT  is  written  that  we  shall  be  justified  or  con- 
demned by  our  words,  and  certainly  the 
words  and  phrases  that  are  the  money  or 
counters  of  social  exchange  frequently  teach 
important  lessons  and  enshrine  the  deepest 
truths.  This  is  the  case  with  the  words  we  make  use  of  in 
parting  from  friends  and  in  meeting  with  them.  What  a 
beautiful  word  is  Good-bye !  Most  people  know  that  it  is 
a  corruption  of  God  be  with  you.  When  parting  from  a 
friend  we  commend  him  to  God  (^  Dieu^  as  the  French 
say)  by  using  the  little  word  Good-bye,  though  we  may  not 
know  or  remember  the  significance  of  what  we  say.  So, 
too.  in  the  phrase,  How  do  you  do  ?  which  is  used  when 


264  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

friends  meet.  May  we  not,  and  ought  we  not,  to  see  a 
deeper  meaning  than  that  which  is  in  the  minds  of  many 
who  use  it  ?  What,  then,  do  we  mean  by  How  do  you  do  ? 
First  of  all,  I  suppose  we  mean  to  ask  in  what  state  is  the 
bodily  health  of  our  friend.  If  this  be  so,  we  imply  by  the 
common  question  that  health  is  the  best  kind  of  wealth  or 
well-being;  that  people  are  very  foolish  in  only  valuing 
health  when  they  lose  it,  and  in  not  considering  the  care  of 
it  a  most  important  duty.  This  may  be  learned  every  time 
we  ask  a  friend,  How  do  you  do  ? 

But  health  of  body  is  not  the  only  kind  of  health.  How- 
ever important  it  is  to  have  a  strong  physical  basis  upon 
which  to  build  happiness  and  success  in  life,  it  is  even 
better  to  have  mental,  moral,  and  religious  health.  Ought 
we  not,  then,  to  include  these  kinds  of  health  in  the  ques- 
tion, How  do  you  do  ?  How  is  your  mind  ?  Is  it  kept  in 
health  by  being  carefully  exercised  upon  worthy  objects,  or 
are  some  of  your  best  faculties  allowed  to  rust  from  want  of 
use  ?  Then  we  must  include  morality  in  our  idea  of  well- 
being,  for  all  our  actions  influence  our  characters.  What 
we  do  makes  us  what  we  are.  That  we  ought  not  to  leave 
good  conduct  out  of  our  idea  of  health,  is  taught  us  even 
by  language,  for  in  the  German  language  the  old  word  for 
"holy"  also  means  "healthy,"  and  in  our  own  "hale," 
"whole,"  and  "  holy  "  are  from  the  same  root.  To  be  holy 
means  to  be  healthy — all  the  parts  of  our  nature  completely 
obeying  the  laws  of  God  in  Nature.  When  we  leave  undone 
what  we  ought  to  do,  and  do  what  we  ought  not,  there  is  no 
health  in  us. 


"HOW  DO  YOU  DOt9  265 

The  questions,  Are  you  saved  ?  and  How  is  your  soul  ? 
are  sometimes  asked  at  wrong  times  and  in  wrong  places ; 
but  surely  there  is  nothing  about  which  a  friend,  if  he  is 
a  real  one,  should  be  more  concerned  than  the  eternal  wel- 
fare of  his  friend.  It  would,  indeed,  be  inconsistent  if,  in 
asking  a  friend  after  his  health,  we  only  thought  of  those 
parts  which  last  at  most  seventy  years,  and  not  at  all  of  that 
part  which  is  likest  God  within  the  soul,  and  which  will 
never  perish.  Surely  sometimes  we  should  think  of  the 
eternal  welfare  of  our  friend  as  even  the  poet  Burns  did 
when  he  wrote  these  lines  : 

**  The  voice  of  Nature  loudly  cries, 
And  many  a  message  from  the  skies, 
That  something  in  us  never  dies  ; 
That  on  this  frail,  uncertain  state 
Hang  matters  of  eternal  weight ; 
That  future  life,  in  worlds  unknown, 
Must  take  its  hue  from  this  alone, 
Whether  as  heavenly  glory  bright, 
Or  dark  as  misery's  woful  night. 
Since,  then,  my  honour'd  first  of  friends, 
On  this  poor  being  all  depends, 
Let  us  the  important  Now  employ, 
And  live  as  those  who  never  die." 

We  must  not  be  selfish  in  our  religion ;  we  must  think  of 
the  well-being  of  others  as  well  as  of  our  own.  "  Were  you 
ready  to  die  that  you  jumped  into  the  stormy  sea  to  save 
that  child's  life  ? "  said  a  gentleman  to  an  English  sailor. 
"  Should  I  have  been  better  prepared,  sir,"  the  sailor 
answered,  "  if  I  had  shirked  my  duty  ?  "  That  was  a  noble 
answer  of  the  philanthropist  when  asked  if  he  was  not 


266  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

neglecting  his  soul  when  occupied  with  his  schemes.  "  I 
have,"  he  replied,  "  been  so  busy  working  for  others  that  I 
have  never  had  time  to  think  whether  I  had  a  soul  or  not." 
This  answer  was  in  the  spirit  of  Moses  and  of  St.  Paul,  both 
of  whom  were  willing  to  perish  if  by  doing  so  they  might 
procure  the  eternal  welfare  of  others.  As  Noah  and  his 
family  and  the  animals  entered  the  ark,  not  singly,  but  "  in 
two  and  two,"  so  shall  we  either  enter  into  heaven  or  be 
excluded,  not  by  ourselves,  but  with  others  whom  we  have 
helped  to  save,  or,  as  far  as  we  could,  have  hindered  from 
being  saved.  Husbands  and  wives,  then,  must  sometimes 
think,  if  it  be  well  with  each  other.  "  For  how  knowest 
thou,  O  wife  !  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy  husband  ?  or  how 
knowest  thou,  O  husband  !  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy 
wife  ?  "  Parents  must  take  charge  of  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  their  children,  so  that  in  the  great  day  of  account  they 
may  be  able  to  say :  "  Here  am  I  with  the  children  whom 
Thou  hast  given  me." 

But,  although  we  ought  to  think  of  others  as  well  as  of 
ourselves,  it  is,  nevertheless,  true  that  the  most  important 
consideration  in  the  world  for  each  man  is  his  own  state 
before  God.  Is  it  well  with  me,  and  will  it  be  well  with 
me  throughout  eternity  ?  How  am  I,  not  in  body,  nor  in 
mind,  nor  in  pocket,  but  in  soul  ?  Am  I  sorry  for  my  sins, 
and  have  I  gone  to  the  Physician  who  alone  can  heal  the 
wounds  of  sin  ?  or  have  I  always  kept  away  from  Him,  and 
shut  out  from  my  heart  the  healthful  Spirit  of  His  grace  ? 
We  may  be  sure  that  it  cannot  be  well  with  us  so  long  as 
we  keep  at  a  distance  from  the  Fountain  of  all  goodness, 


"HOW  DO  YOU  D0?»  267 

the  Source  of  all  strength.  He  has  made  us  for  Himself, 
and  we  are  only  well  when  we  rest  in  Him.  "  If  the  body 
of  man  is  an  ape,  his  soul  is  God,  and  he  is  the  son  of  God. 
There  is  within  him  the  torment  of  the  ideal.  The  true 
man  is  ever  restless  and  pressing  forward  in  search  of  the 
higher  and  vaster  truth.  He  asks  for  more  than  earth ;  he 
wants  what  the  animal  does  not  want — God." 

To  be  really  well  means  to  have  consciously  taken  Jesus 
Christ  for  our  Saviour,  and,  being  nourished  by  His  grace, 
to  daily  endeavour  to  keep  His  commandments.  At  a 
meeting  held  by  slaves  in  Virginia,  one  man  stood  up  be- 
fore his  brethren  and  said,  "  Brethren,  dis  poor  old  body 
of  mine,  de  bone  and  de  blood,  and  de  sinews  and  de 
muscles,  they  belong  to  my  massa ;  my  massa  bought  'em 
in  the  market,  and  he  paid  a  price  for  'em,  and  my  poor 
old  body  is  the  slave  of  Massa  Carr ;  but,  thank  God  !  my 
soul  is  the  free  man  of  de  Lord  Jesus."  It  was  well  with 
this  poor  old  man,  slave  though  he  were ;  but  the  same  can- 
not be  said  of  him  who,  being  tied  and  bound  with  the 
chain  of  sin,  does  not  know  and  does  not  believe  in  the 
only  One  who  can  break  that  chain. 

When  people  are  asked  in  the  street  by  mere  acquaint- 
ances how  they  are,  they  generally  answer,  "  Pretty  well,"  or, 
"Quite  well,"  though  at  the  time  they  may  be  anything 
but  well.  They  may  be  suffering  from  some  incurable 
disease.  Their  hearts  may  be  on  the  point  of  breaking 
with  some  secret  sorrow.  He  or  she  who  was  the  light  of 
their  eyes  may  have  been  lost.  They  may  have  committed 
some  great  crime  and  may  be  afraid  of  its  discovery.  And 


268  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

yet  they  answer,  "  Pretty  well,"  or,  "  Quite  well,"  and  pass 
by  with  a  forced  smile,  thus  concealing  the  bitterness  which 
is  known  only  to  their  own  hearts.  One  Friend,  however, 
there  is  from  whom  we  ought  not  even  to  attempt  to  con- 
ceal our  sorrow.  If  we  do,  we  are  like  a  sufferer  on  the 
table  of  a  surgeon,  who  should  show  his  sound  limbs  and 
cover  his  hurts.  "  But  let  God  cover  thy  hurts,  and  not 
thou ;  for  if,  ashamed,  thou  seekest  to  cover  them,  the  Phy- 
sician will  not  cure  them.  Let  Him  cover  and  cure  them ; 
for  under  the  covering  of  the  Physician  the  wound  is  healed, 
under  the  covering  of  the  sufferer  it  is  only  concealed ;  and 
concealed  from  whom  ?  from  Him  to  whom  all  things  are 
known."  "  Is  it  well  with  thee  ?"  Oh,  how  well  is  he  who 
"  now  laboureth  to  be  such  an  one  in  his  life  as  he  wisheth 
to  be  found  at  the  hour  of  his  death  " ! 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE   WISDOM   OF   THE   FOOLISH. 

"  What  your  wisdoms  could  not  discover, 
These  shallow  fools  have  brought  to  light.'* 

Shakespeare,  "  Much  Ado  about  Nothing*' 

|N  all  ages  those  who  had  themselves  .little 
experience  of  the  power  of  religion  have 
been  disposed  to  explain  it  away  in  others 
by  suggesting  that  it  could  be  accounted  for 
on  the  theory  of  madness. 
There  are  many  examples  of  this  in  the  Bible.  The 
first  we  take  is  from  the  life  of  the  "  Man  of  Sorrows." 
We  read  of  our  Lord's  friends  going  out  to  lay  hold  of  Him, 
for,  said  they,  "  He  is  beside  Himself."  And  again,  after 
one  of  those  wonderful  discourses  that  are  recorded  by  St. 
John,  we  are  told  how  "  There  was  a  division  among  the 
Jews  again  for  these  sayings,  and  many  of  them  said,  He 


270  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

hath  a  devil,  and  is  mad ;  why  hear  ye  Him  ? "  Festus, 
astonished  at  the  earnest  words  spoken  by  the  prisoner 
before  his  judgment  bar,  fancied  he  had  discovered  the 
source  of  the  apostle's  enthusiasm  when  he  cried  out, 
"  Paul,  thou  art  beside  thyself;  much  learning  doth  make 
thee  mad."  In  reference  to  the  gift  of  tongues,  St.  Paul 
asks  the  Corinthians  whether  plain  men  and  unbelievers 
would  not  say,  on  entering  an  assembly  where  all  were 
speaking  with  tongues,  that  they  were  mad.  And  when 
this  was  actually  said  of  himself  and  his  fellow  Christians, 
he  calmly  replies,  "  Whether  we  be  beside  ourselves  it  is  to 
God."  "We  are  fools  for  Christ's  sake,  but  ye  are  wise" 
(in  your  own  estimation),  he  tells  the  Corinthians  when  he 
saw  them  puffed  up  with  unchristian  wisdom.  Isaiah 
described  the  moral  atmosphere  of  his  day  when  he  said, 
"  He  that  departeth  from  evil  maketh  himself  a  prey  " — or 
as  it  is  in  the  margin — "is  accounted  mad.7'  In  those  evil 
days  a  good  man  was  preyed  upon  by  the  bad  because  he 
scorned  to  defend  himself  with  their  weapons,  and  the 
thanks  he  got  for  not  doing  so  was  to  be  considered  "a 
fool,"  "  unpractical,"  "  not  up  to  business,"  "  soft " — "  mad." 
In  our  own  day  the  same  reproach  is  cast  upon  religion 
in  one  form  or  another.  "Mere  enthusiasm"  it  is  called. 
"  Oh,  that  way  madness  lies ;  let  me  shun  that,"  we  cry  with 
poor  old  King  Lear.  If  a  young  man  refuse  some  appoint- 
ment on  conscientious  grounds,  his  parents  stare,  speak  of 
their  "  strange  son,"  and  form  a  decidedly  lower  opinion  of 
his  intellect.  "  Now  don't  you  be  a  fool,  just  do  as  others 
do,"  is  the  sedative  frequently  prescribed  for  uneasiness  of 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  FOOLISH.  271 

conscience.  Certain  tricks  are  called  "  the  way  of  business," 
and  he  who  murmurs  with  childish  ingenuousness  "dis- 
honest" is  accounted  a  fool  for  his  pains.  General  Gordon, 
and  any  one  else  who  puts  into  practice  the  precepts  of 
religion,  are  considered  by  many  to  be  little  less  than 
lunatics.  We  are  more  nervous  about  (what  is  surely  in 
the  case  of  most  of  us  a  remote  contingency)  becoming 
immoderately  religious  than  about  anything  else.  We  would 
have  shares  in  religion,  but  they  must  be  of  strictly  limited 
liability. 

But  to  all  this  it  may  be  retorted  that  in  the  Bible  it  is 
the  irreligious  who  are  called  mad  and  foolish.  In  His 
parable  our  Lord  tells  us  that  the  Prodigal  Son  only  thought 
of  his  father's  home  when  hunger  had  brought  him  to  his 
senses.  "  And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  I  will 
arise,  and  go  to  my  Father."  While  living  a  riotous  life  he 
was  really  "  beside  himself."  In  another  parable  Jesus  told 
His  hearers  the  sentence  pronounced  against  the  man  who, 
engrossed  in  eating,  drinking,  and  money-making,  had  no 
higher  aim.  "  But  God  said  unto  him,  Thou  fool,  this 
night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee."  The  apostle 
whom  Festus  called  "  mad "  when  speaking  of  the  ancient 
Greeks,  so  proud  of  their  cleverness,  says  that  "professing 
themselves  to  be  wise  they  became  fools,  because,  knowing 
God,  they  did  not  glorify  Him  as  God."  And  he  asks  the 
Corinthians,  "  Hath  not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of 
this  world  ? "  and  assures  them  that  the  preaching  of 
"  Christ  crucified,"  though  it  might  appear  "  foolishness  "  to 
luxurious  Greeks  who  could  not  understand  self-sacrifice, 


272  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

was  nothing  less  than  the  wisdom  of  God — that  which 
revealed  His  wisdom. 

Then,  to  turn  to  the  Old  Testament,  Jeremiah  speaks  of 
madness  as  sent  in  punishment :  "  They  shall  drink  (of  the 
wine-cup  of  fury)  and  be  moved  and  be  mad."  He  tells 
the  people  that  they  are  "  mad  upon  their  idols."  We  can 
understand  this  when  we  see  how  the  idols  of  position,  of 
money,  of  fashion,  of  appetite,  turn  people's  heads,  causing 
too  many  to  fret  and  overwork  themselves  into  lunatic 
asylums.  And  the  same  prophet  says,  that  "the  nations 
have  drunk  the  cup  of  Babylon  and  are  mad."  How  many 
of  the  rich  drown  their  senses  in  the  cup  of  London  society 
each  "  season,"  and  of  working  men  not  a  few  become  the 
fools  of  publicans  in  the  same  modern  Babylon  !  Hosea 
complains  that  in  the  Israel  of  his  day  "  the  prophet  is  a 
fool,  the  spiritual  man  mad,"  because  he  prophesied  peace 
to  a  sinful  generation.  When  King  Saul  in  fury  pursued 
David  "  as  one  doth  hunt  a  partridge  on  the  mountains," 
and  when  David,  by  sparing  for  the  second  time  his  life 
after  finding  him  asleep  in  the  wilderness,  forces  from  him 
a  fool's  confession,  it  was  given  in  these  words,  "  I  have 
played  the  fool,  I  have  erred  exceedingly." 

In  the  language  of  Scripture,  especially  in  the  Book  of 
Proverbs,  fool  is  the  usual  character  of  the  sinner,  and  folly 
and  foolishness  are  put  for  sin.  "  A  wise  man  feareth  and 
departeth  from  evil ;  but  the  fool  rageth  and  is  confident." 
"A  fool  despiseth  his  father's  instruction."  "He  that 
uttereth  a  slander  is  a  fool."  After  speaking  of  the  great- 
ness of  God's  works,  and  the  depth  of  His  thoughts,  the 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  FOOLISH.  273 

Psalmist  exclaims,  "  A  brutish  man  knoweth  not,  neither 
doth  a  fool  understand  this."  On  the  other  hand,  "the 
mouth  of  the  righteous  speaketh  wisdom."  Having  men- 
tioned many  hidden  things  that  man  has  found  out,  Job  asks 
this  question,  "  But  where  shall  wisdom  be  found?"  and  his 
answer  is,  "  Behold,  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom ; 
and  to  depart  from  evil  is  understanding." 

We  can  now  see  that  the  poor  patient  who  asked  a  gentle- 
man, when  visiting  Bedlam,  "  Have  you  given  God  thanks 
for  your  senses  to-day  ?  "  had  more  reason  than  those  of  us 
who  neglect  this  thanksgiving.  Indeed,  it  is  every  one's 
duty  to  ask  the  Divine  Physician  of  mind  as  well  as  of  soul 
and  body,  to  keep  him  sane,  and  to  carefully  follow  His 
prescriptions;  especially  at  the  present  time,  when,  while 
pauperism  is  generally  declining,  insanity  appears  to  be  on 
the  increase. 

Now  we  say  that  the  pure  religion  of  Christ  can  make 
and  keep  people  sane,  who  without  it  would  be  the  reverse. 
To  the  intemperate  threatened  with  dipsomania,  whose  own 
constitution  is  being  ruined,  and  who  is  rearing  in  abject 
poverty  children  with  characteristics  like  himself,  little 
capable  of  bearing  in  after  life  arduous  toil  or  protracted 
anxiety — to  such  an  one  the  Gospel  says,  "  You  are  a  slave 
to  the  brute  that  is  in  you,  because  you  will  not  become  His 
servant  whose  service  is  perfect  freedom.  It  was  to 
take  from  you,  Smith,  Brown,  Jones,  or  whatever  your  name 
may  be,  that  devil's  chain  of  drunkenness,  that  your  Saviour 
died  and  rose  again  ;  and  shall  you  not,  by  meditating  on  all 
He  has  done  for  you,  be  enabled  for  His  sake,  and  for  the 

18 


274  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

sake  of  your  own  sanity,  not  to  mention  your  little  onetf  at 
home,  to  raise  yourself  from  the  death  of  this  sin,  and  live 
again  unto  righteousness?"  Certainly  every  individual 
rescued  from  the  slavery  and  degradation  of  lust,  gambling, 
and  drunkenness  does  something  to  break  the  entail  of  the 
physical  and  mental  weakness  which  is  the  predisposing 
cause  of  idiocy  and  madness. 

In  old  and  populous  communities  the  battle  of  life  presses 
with  a  very  heavy  strain  on  all  classes.  Only  the  other  day 
an  advertisement  for  a  door-keeper  received  nine  hundred 
answers,  so  hard  is  it  at  the  present  time  to  get  a  living. 
And  yet  if  we  can  say  from  our  hearts,  "  The  Lord  is  my 
Shepherd ;  I  shall  not  want,"  we  can  also  say  with  St.  Paul, 
"None  of  these  things  move  me."  Over-anxiety  would  never 
make  us  mad  if,  believing  that  God  careth  for  us,  we  would 
cast  all  our  anxiety  on  Him.  But  no  one  becomes  mad  who 
only  desires  enough  ;  it  is  greediness  that  maddens.  When 
a  man  permits  money-making  to  be  his  ruling  passion,  and 
the  barometer  of  his  emotions  rises  and  falls  with  the 
changes  of  business,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  his  mental 
balance  should  be  endangered  by  any  sudden  storm  of 
financial  trial.  The  only  cure  for  such  a  man  is  to  believe 
St.  Paul's  assurance  that  "  Godliness  with  contentment  is 
great  gain,"  since  we  really  ought  to  want  nothing  more  than 
food  and  shelter,  considering  that  we  brought  nothing  into 
this  world  and  can  carry  nothing  out. 

This  subject  ought  to  make  us  more  charitable,  for  the 
more  we  study  cases  of  insanity  the  more  we  see  the  intimate 
connection  that  exists  between  body  and  spirit.  A  man's 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  FOOLISH.  275 

moral  nature  may  become  impaired  by  an  attack  of  sickness 
or  by  an  accident.  What  seems  to  us  great  wickedness  in 
another  may  be  ill-health  or  insanity,  partial  or  complete, 
temporary  or  chronic.  We  see  people  fall  into  violent 
passions,  especially  little  children.  No\v  a  violent  passion 
or  fit  of  obstinacy  may  be  caused  by  a  temporary  congestion 
of  the  brain.  The  consequence  of  beating  a  child  for  this 
is  that  the  brain,  which  was  already  for  some  cause  or  other 
filled  with  blood,  becomes  more  crowded  still.  It  is  hardly 
ever  right  to  beat  a  child  when  in  a  fit  of  passion.  You  will 
do  more  with  a  little  one  of  three  or  four  years  of  age  by 
management.  Take  him  on  your  knee  and  say,  "  My  dear 
child,  you  are  not  well ;  but  when  you  give  me  a  smile  I 
shall  give  you  a  kiss  in  return." 

We  may  remember  reading  some  years  ago  in  the  news- 
papers of  a  dignitary  of  the  church,  who  was  both  a  good 
and  a  learned  man,  having  committed  suicide  in  a  fit  of 
temporary  insanity*  Sad  and  strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
fit  was  caused  by  nothing  greater  than  a  cold.  On  a  Tues- 
day the  bishop  had  been  at  a  religious  ceremony  in  the  open 
air  and  caught  a  chill  which  produced  congestion  of  the  lungs, 
and  on  Friday  evening  he  became  delirious.  But  there  was 
no  serious  apprehension,  for  he  was  left  alone  on  Saturday 
morning.  Thus  left,  he  locked  the  door  and  wounded 
himself  fatally.  When  the  door  was  burst  open,  and  his 
wife  and  others  stood  appalled  at  the  ghastly  scene,  he 
beckoned  mournfully  for  writing  materials,  and  when  a  pen- 
cil and  paper  were  given  to  him  he  could  write  but  one  word, 
mad  /  We  learn  from  this  that  it  is  our  duty  to  take  care 


276  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

of  the  health  of  our  bodies,  for  the  loss  of  it  may  cause  our 
sorrowing  friends  to  see  "  that  noble  and  sovereign  reason, 
like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh."  Our  men- 
tal and  even  spiritual  maladies  are  often  occasioned  by  some 
very  slight  bodily  ailment.  You  must  regulate  your  diet, 
and  otherwise  obey  nature.  Take  rest  and  change  the  air  if 
you  can.  Many  a  time  the  whole  emotional  atmosphere 
which  has  got  wrong  gets  righted  by  a  good  walk.  Don't  go 
on  wrangling  with  your  wife ;  go  out  and  change  the  scene, 
and  you  will  come  back  with  a  sweet  temper  ready  to  forget 
and  forgive. 

Madness  means  an  unbalanced  state  of  mind.  A  mind 
exaggerates  things  which  ought  not  to  have  any  importance 
— a  word,  a  look,  anything  rankles.  The  religion  of  Christ 
has  power  to  change  all  this.  "  Let  your  moderation  (sweet 
reasonableness)  be  known  unto  all  men,"  says  St.  Paul  to  the 
Philippians.  Let  a  man  pray  for  power  to  know  and  to  obey 
those  laws  of  health  which  our  Father  in  heaven  has 
appointed  in  order  that  His  children  might  have  sound  minds 
in  sound  bodies ;  let  him  do  this,  and  the  peace  of  God 
which  passeth  all  understanding  shall  keep  (as  a  protecting 
garrison)  his  heart  and  mind  through  Christ  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


THE   WISE    MAN  S    CONCLUSION. 


"  I  believe  that  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  live  among  what  is  most 
beautiful  ;  that  he  is  a  creature  incapable  of  satisfaction  by  anything 
upon  earth  ;  and  that  to  allow  him  habitually  to  possess,  in  any  kind 
whatsoever,  the  utmost  that  earth  can  give,  is  the  surest  way  to  cast  him 
into  lassitude  or  discontent." — Ruskin. 

"  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter :  Fear  God,  and  keep 
His  commandments." — Ecdesiastes  xii.  13. 

E  cannot  but  fall  into  great  error  if  we  attempt 
to  build  up  systems  of  religion  and  morality 
from  a  few  chapters  or  verses  of  the  Bible. 
When  that  book  is  put  on  the  rack,  and  quoted 
unfairly,  it  may  be  made  to  say  anything. 
Even  the  atheist  has  Scripture  authority  for  his  negation  in 
Psalm  xiv.  i,  "There  is  no  God,"  if  he  will  only  suppress 
the  preceding  words,  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart."  It 
is  the  spirit  of  God's  Word  taken  as  a  whole,  not  a  few  text? 


278  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN? 

torn  from  their  context,  that  makes  us  "  wise  unto  salva- 
tion." 

But  however  true  this  is  of  other  books  of  the  Bible,  it  is 
especially  true  of  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes.  In  this  portion 
of  God's  Word  there  are  verses  that  might  be  used  by  an 
unfair  disputant  to  justify  both  licentiousness  and  irreligion. 
The  reason  is  plain.  The  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  is  the  record 
of  a  man's  experience  of  life.  In  it  the  royal  preacher,  or 
whoever  the  writer  was,  has  jotted  down  all  that  he  did 
and  all  that  he  felt.  Bad  doings  and  feelings  are  put  down 
with  honest  simplicity — not  so  in  modern  biographies  or 
even  in  autobiographies — as  well  as  good  ones ;  so  that  we 
must  not  stop  at  single  chapters,  much  less  verses,  but  read 
the  book  through  and  judge  of  it  as  a  whole. 

The  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  narrates  Solomon's  quest  or 
search  after  the  chief  good  for  man — after  that  one  thing 
wherein  his  highest  happiness  consists.  It  is  the  log-book, 
so  to  speak,  of  a  stout  mariner,  who,  smiting  the  sounding 
furrows,  struggled  hard  to  touch  with  his  bark  of  life  "  the 
Happy  Isles." 

In  all  ages  and  countries  thoughtful  men  have  speculated 
much  about  the  chief  good  or  greatest  happiness  of  man — 
the  end  he  should  propose  to  himself  all  his  life  long.  An 
ancient  writer  tells  us  that  in  his  day  there  were  two  hundred 
and  eighty-five  summa  bona^  or  chief  goods,  each  of  which 
was  advocated  by  different  schools  of  philosophers. 

Solomon  devoted  himself  to  this  quest  after  the  best 
thing  for  man.  He  endeavoured  to  find  the  key  to  happi- 
ness by  experiencing  every  kind  of  life.  He  would  believe 


THE  WISE  MAN'S  CONCLUSION.  279 

no  hearsays  about  pleasure,  but  would  woo  her  for  himself. 
Like  Tennyson's  Ulysses,  he  said  to  himself : 

"  I  will  drink 

Life  to  the  lees  :  all  times  I  have  enjoy'd 
Greatly,  have  suffer 'd  greatly,  both  with  those 
That  loved  me,  and  alone.  .  .  . 
Yet  all  experience  rs  an  arch  where  thro' 
Gleams  that  untravell'd  world,  whose  margin  fades 
For  ever  and  for  ever  when  I  move. 
How  dull  it  is  to  pause,  to  make  an  end, 
To  rust  unburnish'd,  not  to  shine  in  use  ! 
As  tho'  to  breathe  was  life.     Life  piled  on  life 
Were  all  too  little  :  but  every  hour  is  saved 
From  that  eternal  silence,  something  more, 
A  bringer  of  new  things  ;  and  vile  it  were 
To  store  and  hoard  myself  yearning  in  desire 
To  follow  knowledge  like  a  sinking  star 
Beyond  the  utmost  bound  of  human  thought. 
•  *  *  • 

It  may  be  that  the  gulfs  will  wash  us  down, 
It  may  be  we  shall  touch  the  Happy  Isles." 

And  well  was  Solomon  equipped  for  his  voyage  of  dis- 
covery. He  was  a  great  king,  therefore  he  could  know  from 
experience  whether  the  lot  of  princes  was  necessarily  a 
"happy  one,  or  whether  without  one  distress  they  might  not 
become  sick  of  themselves  through  very  selfishness.  He 
was  a  man  of  talent,  and  could  appreciate  intellectual  plea- 
sure. Can  light  without  warmth,  can  knowledge  without 
love,  satisfy?  He  would  try.  "For  woman's  love  it  is 
known  to  be  a  lovely  and  a  fearful  thing."  He  would 
practically  examine  the  aphorism.  He  would  adopt  the  role 
of  useful  king  and  useless  sensualist,  of  wise  observer  and 
of  foolish  bookworm.  He  would  "  see  the  thing  out,"  he 


280  " MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

would  even  wait  after  the  play,  for  might  not  his  very  disgust 
at  the  puerile  farce  to  follow  teach  him  wisdom  ? 

Now,  if  a  man  like  this  cannot  extract  lasting  happiness 
from  perishable  things  under  the  sun — these  words  are  the 
key-note  of  the  book — no  one  can,  "for  what  can  the  man 
do  that  cometh  after  the  king  ?  "  Must  not  Solomon,  who 
has  "  done,"  so  to  speak,  all  kinds  of  life,  who  has  been  a 
king,  a  public  benefactor,  a  millionaire,  a  sensualist,  and 
lastly,  a  religious  man,  be  trusted  when  he  speaks  to  us  ?  Is 
not  his  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  to  be  attended  to  ? 
And  what  is  his  conclusion  ?  That  the  imperishable  spiri- 
tual nature  of  man  cannot  be  satisfied  with  what  is  transitory 
and  vanishing,  that  all  things  under  the  sun  are  of  this 
nature,  and  are  therefore  "vanity  of  vanities,  all  vanity." 
Forget  the  Creator  in  the  creature,  think  only  of  pleasing 
self,  and  the  deeper  your  nature  is,  the  sooner  and  more 
bitterly  will  you  cry  with  the  Lotus-Eaters : 

"  Hateful  is  the  dark-blue  sky 
Vaulted  o'er  the  dark-blue  sea. 
Death  is  the  end  of  life  ;  ah,  why 
Should  life  all  labour  be  ? 
Let  us  alone.     Time  driveth  onward  fast, 
And  in  a  little  while  our  lips  are  dumb. 
Let  us  alone.     What  is  it  that  will  last  ? 
All  things  are  taken  from  us,  and  become 
Portions  and  parcels  of  the  dreadful  past." 

God  has  made  us  for  Himself,  and  we  cannot  rest  except  in 
Him.  All  things  under  the  sun  must  appear  vanity  of 
vanities  or  emptiness  of  emptiness — "  hollow  "  as  the  blase 
used-up  man  now  calls  them — when  we  attempt  to  quench 


THE  WISE  MAN'S  CONCLUSION.  281 

with  anything  less  than  the  highest  good,  the  highest  truth, 
and  the  highest  beauty,  souls  "athirst  for  God,  yea,  even 
for  the  living  God."  The  preacher,  not  without  bitter 
experience,  came  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  chief  good, 
indeed  the  only  good,  for  man  is  to  fear  God  and  to  keep 
His  commandments. 

There  are  four  things  in  which  inexperienced  people 
believe  man's  highest  happiness  to  consist.  These  are 
knowledge,  pleasure,  ambition,  riches.  Does  any  one  of 
these  or  all  of  them  together  completely  satisfy  ?  From  per- 
sonal experience  Solomon  could  answer,  "  No  !  the  immortal 
soul  of  man  soars  above  them  all.  Like  Noah's  dove,  she 
can  find  no  rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot  on  anything  under 
the  sun." 

Let  us  listen  to  the  preacher's  words  in  reference  to  these 
four  supposed  sources  of  complete  happiness.  He  speaks 
thus  of  knowledge : 

"  I  communed  with  mine  own  heart,  saying,  Lo,  I  am 
come  to  great  estate,  and  have  gotten  more  wisdom  than  all 
they  that  have  been  before  me  in  Jerusalem  :  yea,  my  heart 
had  great  experience  of  wisdom  and  knowledge.  And  I  gave 
my  heart  to  know  wisdom,  and  to  know  madness  and  folly  : 
I  perceived  that  this  also  is  vexation  of  spirit.  For  in  much 
wisdom  is  much  grief :  and  he  that  increaseth  knowledge, 
increaseth  sorrow."  Knowledge  cannot  satisfy  us,  for  the 
more  we  know  the  more  we  find  there  is  to  be  known.  In 
the  valley  of  ignorance  we  see  little ;  but  once  ascend  the 
mountain  of  science,  and  from  its  summit  you  get  an  endless 
prospect  of  things  past  finding  out.  This  was  the  meaning 


282  "MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN" 

of  Newton's  words,  that,  "  he  was  like  a  little  child  gathering 
shells  on  the  shore  of  the  great  ocean  of  being."  Know- 
ledge again  suggests  far  more  doubts  than  it  satisfies.  It 
humbles  us,  too,  for  the  man  who  knows  anything  knows 
that  this  world  and  all  the  concerns  of  man  are,  when  com- 
pared with  the. universe  of  other  worlds,  no  greater  than  are 
the  little  ants  and  the  burdens  they  carry,  when  compared 
with  ourselves  and  those  belongings  of  ours  about  which  there 
is  so  much  "  fretful  stir  unprofitable." 

On  finding  that  in  his  case  the  increase  of  knowledge  was 
the  increase  of  sorrow,  we  can  imagine  Solomon  speaking 
thus  to  himself:  "Away  with  this  dry  light,  these  musty 
books.  Let  me  enjoy  pleasure  ;  there  is  a  time  to  be  merry 
as  well  as  to  be  wise.  I'm  not  going  to  be  a  bookworm. 
Weary  of  being  a  pedant,  I  shall  try  the  life  of  a  sensualist." 
Here  is  his  experience  as  a  man  of  pleasure  :  "  I  said  in 
mine  heart,  Go  to  now,  I  will  prove  thee  with  mirth,  there- 
fore enjoy  pleasure ;  and,  behold,  this  also  is  vanity.  I  said 
of  laughter,  It  is  mad  ;  and  of  mirth,  What  doeth  it  ?  "  Yet 
he  was  not  a  stupid  sensualist.  He  avoided  the  mistake  of 
crowding  the  pleasure  of  a  life-time  into  one  short  summer, 
to  be  followed  by  many  winters  of  discontent.  He  endea- 
voured to  mix  reason  with  pleasure — to  be  wisely  self- 
indulgent.  He  was  not  going  to  make  his  nerves  thrill 
until  they  were  shattered.  He  would  sip  the  cup  of  enjoy- 
ment and  would  not  choke  himself  with  greedy  gulping.  He 
would  be  a  moderate  drinker,  and  would  moderate  all  his 
pleasures  generally.  "  I  sought  in  mine  heart  to  give  myself 
unto  wine,  yet  acquainting  mine  heart  with  wisdom,  and  to 


THE  WISE  MAN'S  CONCLUSION.  283 

lay  hold  on  folly,  till  I  might  see  what  was  that  good  for  the 
sons  of  men,  which  they  should  do  under  the  heaven  all  the 
days  of  their  life."  But  even  this  prudence,  which  preferred 
to  have  pleasure  long  rather  than  strong— even  this  alliance 
between  gaiety  and  wisdom  was  also  found  to  be  vanity. 
Solomon  learned  that  "  a  man  of  pleasure  is  a  man  of 
pains."  He  could  understand  the  Cabinet  Minister,  who, 
thinking  of  the  satiety  and  labour  of  pleasure,  said,  "  that 
life  would  be  tolerable  but  for  its  pleasures,"  or  the  poet 
whose  experience  it  was  that — 


Pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread, 
You  seize  the  flower,  its  bloom  is  shed, 
Or,  like  the  snow-fall  in  the  river, 
A  moment  white,  then  melts  for  ever." 


Solomon  had  made  the  discovery  that  the  soul  of  man 
cannot  be  sustained  on  the  husks  of  mere  pleasure ;  but 
what  if  ambition,  that  "last  infirmity  of  noble  minds,"  with 
its  scorn  of  delights  and  laborious  days — what  if  this  be  the 
source  of  man's  highest  happiness  ?  Power  over  others — 
power  to  make  your  will  law — that,  if  anything,  must  surely  be 
happiness.  Hear  the  wise  man's  experience :  "  Better  is  a 
handful  with  quietness,  than  both  the  hands  full  with  travail 
and  vexation  of  spirit.  Better  is  a  poor  and  a  wise  child  than 
an  old  and  foolish  king  who  will  no  more  be  admonished." 
Those  in  high  position  have  greater  responsibility  than  those 
who  are  in  humble  life.  They  must  needs  be  very  anxious. 
The  sleep  of  the  labouring  man  is  sweet,  but  "  uneasy  lies  the 
head  that  wears  a  crown." 


284  "  MANNERS  MAKYTH  MAN." 

The  fourth  recipe  Solomon  tried  was  riches.  Could 
money  buy  from  him  his  "  divine  discontent  "  ?  "  He  that 
loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  silver;  nor  he  that 
loveth  abundance  with  increase  :  this  is  also  vanity.  When 
goods  increase,  they  are  increased  that  eat  them  :  and  what 
good  is  there  to  the  owners  thereof,  saving  the  beholding  of 
them  with  their  eyes  ?  "  The  Silas  Marners  of  the  world 
are  far  from  being  happy.  The  more  money  a  man  has  the 
more  he  wants.  Nor  does  the  rich  man  really  enjoy  more 
than  he  who  has  enough.  Croesus  has  not  two  mouths,  so 
as  to  eat  two  dinners  at  once.  He  cannot  drive  in  two 
carriages  at  the  same  time.  When  a  man's  riches  increase 
he  is  troubled  and  devoured  with  parasites.  The  luxuries 
on  his  table  undermine  his  health,  or  his  money  may  lead 
him  to  ruinous  gambling.  Is  he  of  a  saving  nature  ?  Then 
his  son  will  probably  dissipate  his  beloved  guineas,  flinging 
them  over  the  publican's  counter  or  dashing  them  into  the 
laps  of  harlots. 

Was  it  any  wonder  that  Solomon,  after  all  these  experi- 
ences, should  come  to  the  conclusion  that  man  only  be- 
comes happy  when,  ceasing  to  think  of  self,  his  one  desire  is 
to  serve  God  ?  We  only  become  happy  when  we  are  will- 
ing to  pass  happiness  by,  when  we  can  lose  ourselves  in  some 
glorious  aim.  We  must  be  miserable  when  self  rather  than 
God  is  the  centre  of  our  world.  Empty  yourself  of  self,  and 
God  will  fill  you.  Empty  yourself  of  God,  and  then  you 
will  lose  your  life  by  trying  to  save  it. 

The  moral  of  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  appears  to  be  this  : 
that  selfishness  is  a  great  mistake,  and  produces  no  fruit  of 


THE  WISE  MAWS  CONCLUSION.  285 

real  happiness — emptiness  of  emptiness,  nothing  but  empti- 
ness within  the  soul !  And  does  not  a  greater  than  Solomon 
assure  us  that  "  Whosoever  drinketh  of  this  water  shall 
thirst  again;  but  whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst  \  but  the  water  that  I  shall 
give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into 
everlasting  life  "  ? 

"  Oh,  if  I  were  ever  lucky  enough  to  call  this  estate  mine, 
I  should  be  a  happy  fellow,"  said  a  young  man.  "  And 
then?"  said  a  friend.  "And  then?"  "Why,  then  I'd 
pull  down  the  old  house  and  build  a  palace,  have  lots 
of  prime  fellows  round  me,  keep  the  best  wines  and  the 
finest  horses  and  dogs  in  the  country."  "And  then?" 
"Why  then,  I'd  hunt,  and  ride,  and  smoke,  and  drink,  and 
dance,  and  keep  open  house,  and  enjoy  life  gloriously." 
"And  then?"  "Why,  then  I  suppose,  like  other  people, 
I  shall  grow  old  and  not  care  so  much  for  these  things." 
"  And  then  ? "  "  Why,  then  I  suppose,  in  the  course  of 
nature,  I  shall  leave  all  these  pleasant  things — and — well, 
yes— die!"  "And  then?"  "  Oh,  bother  your  Athens'!  I 
must  be  off."  Many  years  afterwards  the  friend  was  accosted 
with,  "  God  bless  you,  I  owe  my  happiness  to  you ! '' 
"How?"  "By  two  words  spoken  in  season  long  ago — 
'And  then?'" 


Fourth  Edition  Now  T^eady. 

How  TO  BE  HAPPY 
THOUGH  MARRIED. 

By  a  Graduate  in  the  University  of  Matrimony. 

One  volume,  I2mo.,  beautifully  bound,         -  $1.25. 


How  to  be  Happy  Though  Married. 

To  be  or  not  to  be — Married  ? 

Marriage — Made  Men. 

The  Choice  of  a  Wife. 

The  Choice  of  a  Husband. 

Making  the  Best  of  a  Bad  Bargain. 

Marriage  as  a  Discipline  of  Character. 

Being  Married. 

Honeymooning. 

Marriage  Vows. 

"Drive  Gently  Over  the  Stones."  • 

Furnishing. 

Married  People's  Money. 

The  Management  of  Servants. 


Preparation  for  Parenthood. 
"What  is  the  Use  of  a  Child?" 
The  Education  of  Parents. 
Wanted !     Mothers. 
''Nursing  Fathers." 
Politeness  at  Home. 
Sunshine. 

They  Had  a  Few  Words. 
Pulling  Together. 
Nets  and  Cages. 
Husbands  Have  Duties  Too. 
The  Health  of  the  Family. 
Love  Surviving  Marriage. 
"He  Will  not  Separate  Us,  We  Have 
Been  so  Happy." 


"We  strongly  recommend  this  book  as  one  of  the  best  of  wedding  presents.  It  is  a 
complete  handbook  to  an  earthly  Paradise,  and  its  author  may  be  regarded  as  the  Mur- 
ray of  Matrimony  and  the  Baedeker  of  Bliss." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"This  volume  is  written  with  exceeding  grace,  and  the  author  shows  a  happy  knack 
in  the  selection  of  his  illustrations.  .  .  The  book,  n  singularly  honest  one,  does  not 
sermonize.  Replete  with  good  advice,  cheerfully  imparted,  it  teaches  lessons  to  those 
about  to  be  married,  and  even  to  those  whose  partners  in  life  have  been  already 
chosen." — Neiu  York  Times. 

"A  clever,  readable  and  entertaining  book." — Literary  Churchman. 

"One  of  the  brightest,  wittiest,  most  sensible  and  wholesome  books  on  the  subject 
of  matrimony  that  we  have  seen.  .  .  It  is  brimming  over  with  the  best  advice,  but 
the  dose  is  so  happily  commingled  with  bright  sayings,  apt  quotations,  and  pleasant  an- 
ecdotes, that  the  reader  takes  it  all  before  he  realizes  the  exact  nature  of  the  com- 
pound."— New  York  Observer. 

"An  entertaining  volume.  .  .  The  new  guide  to  matrimonial  felicity." — London 
Standard. 

"One  of  the  cleverest,  best  written  books  on  the  subject  we  have  read  at  any  time 
To  girls  contemplating  marriage,  the  yolume  should  be  presented  as  a  wedding  gift.    . 
Grave  and  gay,  but  never  for  a  moment  dull  or  tiresome.     Each  page  sparkles  with  an- 
ecdote or  suggestive  illustration." — Ladies'  Treasury. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  by  the  publishers, 

CHARLES     SCRIBNER'S     SONS, 

<5r  745  Broad-way,  New-York. 


"  Mr.  Stockton  has  •written  a  book  which  you  can V  discuss  with' 
eut  laughing;  and  that  is  proof  enough  of  its  quality" 

— N.  Y.  TRIBUNE. 

THE  LATE  MRS.  NULL 

By  FRANK  R.  STOCKTON. 


One   Volume.      12mo.      Cloth.      $1.25. 

"THE  LATE  MRS.  NULL"  is  one  of  those  fortunate  books  that 
goes  beyond  all  expectation.  Even  those  readers  whose  hopes 
have  been  raised  the  highest  have  before  them — especially  in  the 
fact  that  they  receive  the  story  complete  and  at  once,  without 
intermediate  serial  publication — such  an  enjoyment  as  they  hard- 
ly foresee. 

It  is  enough  to  say  of  the  scene  that  it  is  chiefly  in  Virginia, 
to  show  the  possibilities  of  local  character-drawing  open  to  Mr. 
Stockton  in  addition  to  his  other  types ;  and  to  say  that  every 
character  is  full  of  the  most  ingenious  and  delicious  originality 
is  altogether  needless.  In  an  increasing  scale,  the  situations  are 
still  more  complicated,  ingenious,  and  enjoyable  than  the  charac- 
ters;  and  finally,  the  plot  is  absolutely  baffling  in  its  clever  in- 
tricacy yet  apparent  simplicity — a  true  device  of  Mr.  Stockton's 
tireless  fancy. 

14  We  congratulate  the  novel  reader  upon  the  feast  there  is  in  'The  Late  Mrs. 
Null.'  "—Hartford  Post. 

"We  can  assure  prospective  readers  that  their  only  regret  after  finishing  the  book 
will  be  that  never  again  can  they  hope  for  the  pleasure  of  reading  it  again  for  the 
first  time."—  The  Critic. 

"  Original,  bright,  and  full  of  the  author's  delicate  humor." — New  York  Journal 
of  Commerce. 

"  '  The  Late  Mrs.  Null'  is  delicious." — Boston  Joztrnal. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  by  the  publishers, 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS, 

<&•  745  Broadway,  New-York. 


YB  2277! 


586419 


UNIVERS.TY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


